


Sing-a-long III

by StBridget



Series: iPod Challenge [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Break Up, Concerts, Crossdressing, Domestic, Drag Queens, Dungeons and Dragons, Enemies to Friends, Episode Related, Episode: s01e06 Wrench, Episode: s01e12 Screwdriver, Established Relationship, Explosions, F/M, Family Reunions, First Kiss, First Time, Fist Fights, Friendship, Future Fic, Games, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Gender Roles, Getting Together, Home Improvement, Introspection, Loch Ness Monster, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pre-Series, Retirement, Shuffle Challenge, Terminal Illnesses, Undercover, Weddings, s2e12 Mac+Jack, s6e3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 38,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: My version of NanNoWriMo--AnStoWriMo (Andi's Story Writing Month).  Goal is one story of approximately 1750 words a day for 30 days.  I'm using the ipod shuffle challenge as a framework.Primary fandoms are likely to be Hawaii Five-0 and MacGyver.  Likely pairings include MacDalton and McDanno. NOTE RATING CHANGE.  Ratings, characters, and pairings will vary by chapter.  Tags will be updated as I go.  Tags may not apply to all chapters.Warning for Ch. 13:  Major Character DeathCharacters, shows, and lyrics belong to their respective creators.





	1. Table of Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> List of songs, fandoms, ratings, and pairings for the challenge.

1\. Stray Dog Man by Bill Sutton. MacGyver, Mac/Jack friendship, T.

 

2\. Lesson in Leavin' by Jo Dee Messina.  MacGyver, Jack/OFC, pre-series, T.

 

3\. Land of Lola from Kinky Boots. Hawaii Five-0, McDanno, E.

 

4.  Murder on Music Row by Alan Jackson and George Strait.  MaGyver, no pairing, G.

 

5.  It Takes a Woman from Hello, Dolly!.  Hawaii Five-0, no pairing, G.

 

6.  Start a Band by Brad Paisley and Keith Urban.  MacGyver.  No pairing, G.

 

7.  Before the Parade Passes By from Hello, Dolly!  MacGyver, no pairing, T for language

 

8.  He ain't worth missing by Toby Keith.  Hawaii Five-0, Past Steve/Catherine, McDanno, T.

 

9.  Facade from Jeckyll and Hyde.  MacGyver, MacDalton, M.

 

10.  T.E.A.M./The Baseball Game from You're a Good Man Charlie Brown.  Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny friendship, G.

 

11.  What Is This Feeling? from Wicked.  MacGyver, Mac/Jack preslash/gen, T.

 

12.  Weeping Willow by Kingston Trio.  Hawaii Five-0, McDanno Established, past Steve/Catherine.  Warning:  Major Character Death.  T

 

13.  Turn the Tide by Bare Necessities.  Hawaii Five-0, McDanno Established, G.

 

14.  Kindegergarten Wall by John McCutcheon.  Hawaii Five-0, Faint McDanno.  T.

 

15.  With Anne on My Arm from La Cage Aux Folles.  MacGyver, MacDalton, G.

 

16.  Where Do We Go from Here? from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Once More with Feeling.  MacGyver, no pairing, T.

 

17.  With a Little Bit of Luck from My Fair Lady.  Hawaii Five-0, McDanno implied, G.

 

18.  Living and Living Well by George Strait.  Hawaii Five-0, McDanno, T.

 

19.  The Ballad of St. Anne's Reel by McGinty.  Hawaii Five-0, pre-series, Steve McGarrett/OFC, T.

 

20.  Durham Gaol by Molly's Revenge.  MacGyver, Jack/Dawn, T.

 

21.  Big Blue Note by Toby Keith.  MacGyver, Jack/Dawn, MacDalton, T.

 

22.  The Scarlet Pimpernel from The Scarlet Pimpernel.  MacGyver, no pairing, T.

 

23.  I'm Not That Girl from Wicked.  Hawaii Five-0, McDanno, T.

 

24.  Celebrity by Brad Paisley.  MacGyver, no pairing, G.

 

25.  Addicted, by Dan Seals.  Hawaii Five-0, Melissa/Danny, McDanno, T.

 

26.  I'm Still a Guy by Brad Paisley.  MacGyver, MacDalton, T.

 

27.  Remember the Alamo by Kingston Trio.  MacGyver, MacDalton, T.

 

28.  You Look So Good in Love by George Strait.  MacGyver, MacDalton, T.

 

29.  The Wizard of Macke Town by Bill Sutton.  Hawaii Five-0, no pairing, T.

 

30.  Nessie Come Up by Dr. Jane.  Hawaii Five-0, no pairing, G.


	2. Stray Dog Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: Stray Dog Man  
> Artist: Bill Sutton  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: Mac/Jack, as friends, pre-slash, or established relationship as you prefer. In my world, they're married, but YMMV (your mileage may vary).
> 
> Summary: Mac and Jack have retired to Texas and have an animal sanctuary of sorts. It's about to get a very strange addition.

“Okay, everybody, suppertime!” Jack hollered as he collected the bowls he’d just filled for his motley pack of dogs. Jack and Mac had retired to Texas a couple of years ago, Bozer and Leanna tagging along (Riley had gone to join Billy Colton and his family). The gang had taken over Jack’s grandpappy’s ranch. Most of the cattle had been sold off long ago, so Jack sold the rest and turned it into an animal sanctuary of sorts; between the four of them, they had amassed a small fortune (being a spy paid remarkably well, and none of them had expensive tastes, so most of the money had been put in savings). Jack ran a TNR program for the neighboring ranchers, spaying and neutering their barn cats and taking in the feral litters. Some of the kittens he was able to tame and adopt out, but most had taken up residence in Jack’s barn. He had a few horses that had gotten too old for wrangling cows and now spent their days roaming free on the copious pastures of the ranch. His favorites, though, were the dozen or so retired cattle dogs of assorted shapes and sizes he’d taken in, from compact Australian cattle dogs to massive cane corsos. Didn’t matter the color, size, or age, Jack loved them all.

 

Jack greeted the dogs as they gathered around the bowls Jack set down. Some of them came up to Jack to be fussed, though most dove straight into their food, waiting until they were done to greet Jack. Jack noticed Bessie, the abused Australian shepherd who had come into his care last week covered in mats and fleas, was looking better. She was gaining weight, and her fur was growing back in spots after Jack had had to shave it all off. She was also becoming more trusting, shyly coming up to Jack and tentatively wagging her tail. He made sure to give Bessie extra lovin’ before heading back to the house.

 

Mac was waiting on the porch drinking a beer. He handed a second one to Jack as the other man sat down beside his partner. Spirit, the deaf white cat Jack had brought into the house and that seldom strayed far from him, twined around Jack’s ankles, and Jack obligingly petted her.

 

“How’s the crew?” Mac asked.

 

Jack took a long pull at his beer. “Doing good. Bessie’s looking great. Warmin’ up to me and everything.”

 

“Yeah, she’s really starting to fit in,” Mac agreed. “She came and visited me while I was working on the hot walker.” Mac was spending his days repairing and improving various bits of farm machinery. His current pet project was the hot walker. He was trying to modify it for more speeds without having to break down and buy a newer model. So far, he’d only had moderate success, but he enjoyed the opportunity to tinker.

 

“That’s great!” Jack exclaimed. “I’m so glad it’s all working out.”

 

The two men lapsed into comfortable silence, drinking their beers and occasionally bumping shoulders or knees in a way that had become very familiar over the years. Their bubble was burst by a loud popping sound.

 

Both men were instantly on alert. Even after a couple of years of retirement, old habits were hard to break. Jack found himself reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. “What was that?”

 

“Sounded like a truck backfiring,” Mac replied. He scanned the long driveway to the house. “No one’s there though.”

 

“Hunh. Must be out on the main road or something,” Jack said. “Sound does carry.” He was still scanning his surroundings, still not convinced there wasn’t an intruder on their property. He did a double-take when he looked at the sky. “What the hell is that?”

 

Mac looked where Jack was pointing. It looked like. . .”Is that a flying pickup truck?”

 

“Can they even make those?” Jack wondered. “Can you?”

 

Mac shook his head. “No. The physics involved means. . .” Jack shot him a Look, and Mac trailed off. “Just no.”

 

“Maybe it’s aliens,” Jack replied.

 

Before Mac could retort, something that looked like a large sack came flying out the back of the truck—or whatever it was—and hit the ground with an agonized cry. The sound immediately attracted the dogs, who formed a loose circle around it. Thorn, a large cane corso and the informal leader of the pack, sniffed at it and growled menacingly. An answering growl came from the sack.

 

The two men looked at each other. Jack really wished he had his gun. He thought about going into the house and getting his shotgun, but Mac, seemingly knowing what his partner was thinking, put a hand on Jack’s arm. “Wait.”

 

Jack waited. The sack rustled then burst open to release the ugliest. . .thing Jack had ever seen. It looked kind of like a dog, a mastiff maybe, but it was huge, larger than any mastiff Jack had ever seen, and it was covered with scaly plates, kind of like a rhinoceros that had mated with a dinosaur. Even more notably, it had six legs. “Either that thing has the worst skin problem I’ve ever seen and a really strange birth defect, or it’s not from this planet,” Jack declared.

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Mac scoffed. “Aliens don’t exist.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Jack said. “First we get a flying pickup, then we get that”--he gestured at the thing he was going to call a dog for lack of a better term. “You tell me what to think.”

 

“Okay, fine, maybe it is aliens,” Mac said. “Whatever it is, we’re stuck with it, because I know you’re not going to leave it to its own devices.”

 

“Of course not,” Jack said. “It may be be ugly, but it’s still a critter, and it’s just been abandoned. We have to help it.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” Mac rose. “You see if you can get a collar on it and put it in one of the stalls in the barn. I’ll get some bedding and some food and water for it.”

 

Jack eyed the beast. “I’m thinking a halter might be more appropriate.”

 

It took some doing and a lot of help from Mac, but between the two of them, they finally managed to get the creature into the barn. It started to whine as soon as they closed the stall, putting its paws on the top of the door and turning what Jack had to admit were pretty damn effective puppy dog eyes on them.

 

“Lonely, buddy?” Jack went and fetched the clock in a mitten he kept for new dogs with separation anxiety. He tossed it into the stall with the alien dog. The dog sniffed at it, then gulped it down. He immediately began whining again.

 

“Damn, I liked that mitten,” Jack said. He grabbed a couple of blankets from the pile Mac had brought. “Okay, fine, you win. I’ll stay here tonight. But I’m calling you Ursa Major because you’re a major pain in the urse.”

 

“Clever, Jack,” Mac said, drily.

 

“That’s me. I’m a riot,” Jack said. He made a passable bed in front of the stall. Good thing he was used to sleeping on the ground. This was not going to be a comfortable night. “All set there, Urse?” There was an answering snuffle which Jack chose to take as an affirmative. “Okay, then. Nighty-night.”

 

Ursa Major settled in remarkably fast. The other dogs, even Bessie, warmed up quickly, probably because Urse wouldn’t take any bull from any of them. He quickly broke up any fights with a deep whoof, and nobody caused any trouble when he was around. Urse knew better than to challenge Thorn, and it soon became clear that Urse was Thorn’s enforcer.

 

Most of the time, though, he was a big lug. He followed Jack everywhere, even to bed. Jack had made a valiant effort to keep Urse out of the house, but that had quickly ended when Urse charged through the screen door and crashed through the closed door to the bedroom. Jack did at least convince Urse to sleep on the floor—otherwise, there’d be no room in the bed for a person. Urse would sit next to Jack every chance he got. Initially, Spirit the cat was put out because she was usually Jack’s shadow, but the two rapidly became fast friends, frequently curling up together, the tiny cat on top of the massive dog. Jack had a picture of the two of them set as his wallpaper on his phone.

 

About a month went by. It was another peaceful evening with Jack and Mac once again drinking beers on the porch. Out of nowhere, they heard another popping, eerily similar to what they’d heard the night Ursa Major was dropped off. This time, both men immediately looked to the sky. Sure enough, a very similar flying pickup was hovering over the ground, and a very similar sack came flying out.

 

Once again, the dogs, including Ursa Major, gathered around the sack. It appeared to be smoking. A large hole burned through the sack, revealing a beast even stranger than Ursa Major. It was much smaller, built like a pitbull, sturdy and compact. What appeared to be flames rippled through thick, black hair. Ursa Major snarled at it, and it snarled right back.

 

“Oh, hell, no,” Jack said. He grabbed a bucket, filled it with water, and marched over to where Ursa Major and the newcomer were engaged in a stand-off. Jack threw the water on the newcomer, dousing the flames or whatever they were with a strange sizzling sound. “That’s it. I’ve had it.” He addressed the sky. “I am _not_ taking the strays in from the whole damn galaxy. Do you hear me?”

 

“What are you going to do with it?” Mac asked.

 

Jack thought about it. He snapped his fingers as an idea occurred to him. “I know! You can build a rocket!”

 

“Then what?” Mac wanted to know.

 

“I’m going to shove it in the nosecone and throw that sucker back,” Jack said.

 

Mac eyed the sodden, still snarling beast. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a version of a story inspired by this song for H50 over on FF, featuring H50 in space with Danny Williams collecting stray dogs and taking in alien dogs, the first of which was the same one described here as Ursa Major. It's called Stray Dog Man. Go check it out!


	3. Lesson in Leavin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's been undercover lots of time and bedded lots of women for missions. That didn't mean leaving ever got any easier.
> 
> Song: Lesson in Leavin'  
> Artist: Jo Dee Messina  
> Fandom: MagGyver  
> Pairing: Jack Dalton/OFC  
> Rating: T

Jack looked around the small, dingy apartment to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Not this place, that was for sure. It wasn’t the worst place he’d ever stayed by a long shot—Jack had been undercover for weeks as a homeless person more than once, and there wasn’t enough soap in the world to get rid of the stench he’d given off by the end—but it certainly wasn’t the best. Jack’s favorite personas were ones like Duke Jacoby where he could strut around as king of the roost spending money like it was water. Posing as a dumb jock personal trainer to wealthy trophy wives in Gulfport, Mississpippi certainly had its perks—the woman he’d had to cuddle up to was _hot_ and more than happy to lavish gifts on him—but it always made him feel dirty to use someone like that. Sure, bedding the wife of a known arms dealer was a hell of a lot better way to get information on his next deal than having to torture a lackey, and, even though it had taken Jack six weeks to get the intel, the takedown had happened with minimum gunfire and only minor injuries on both sides.  It still didn’t make Jack feel any better about it.

 

It was over now, though, and time for Jack to hit the road. He’d finished his last shift at the gym late, and he had—he checked the shiny gold watch that had been one of the wife’s gifts to him—it was nice, and he might just keep it—35 minutes to catch a bus out of here  to head north and meet up with his handler outside DC. Jack slung his duffel over his shoulder and opened the apartment door.

 

Only to come face to face with said wife, just raising her hand to knock on the door. 

 

“Oh, hi,” Jack stammered, taken aback by her sudden appearance. She was supposed to be having a night out with “the girls”, not showing up on his doorstep. This was bad. Very bad. The plan was to get away without long goodbyes or explanations. Now, that was shot to hell. “I was just. . .”

 

She paid him no heed, brushing past him into the apartment. “Jeff!”--the assumed name still sounded weird to Jack’s ears, even after six weeks, and even after so many undercover assigments--”Bethany just told me you quit the gym! I told her you wouldn’t do such a think without even saying goodbye. You wouldn’t, would you?”

 

“No, I quit. Just getting ready to leave town, actually.” Jack kept his voice cool, like he didn’t care, like a man who went through life drifting from town to town, never staying long in one place.

 

The woman stepped closer to Jack, trailing her hand down his arm. Jack forced himself to look at it disdainfully. “But, darling, what about us?”

 

Jack brushed her off. “Sorry, Angie, it’s been fun, but this little place just can’t hold me. Got word there’s a gym in New York City looking for a personal trainer. Thought I’d try my hand there. Bright lights, big city and all that.”

 

“You can stay here and be my personal trainer,” Angie said.

 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Jack said. He kept his voice indifferent, but his gut was clenching. He really hated this part. That’s why he tried to avoid it as much as possible. Just finish the job and slip away, no heartaches and no big scenes.

 

“I’ll pay you twice what they will,” Angie bargained. “Three times.”

 

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. I’m sick of this town. I’m on to bigger and better things.” The hurtful words dripped seemingly without effort from Jack’s lips, but in truth, they didn’t come easily.

 

Tears filled Angie’s eyes. Dammit, Jack hated it when they cried. “But, darling, I thought we had something good.”

 

“You thought wrong,” Jack said, digging the knife in deeper and hating every second of it. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s been fun, but you were just a diversion, you know? I can easily find someone else to occupy my time.”

 

Jack wasn’t surprised when Angie’s hand connected with his face in a loud slap. “You sleaze! I thought you were different, but you were just using me for my money like all the rest.”

 

Anger was better than tears, but Jack didn’t like this part, either, especially when Angie was half right. He had been using her, just not for here money. “What can I say? Perks of the job.”

 

Angie’s eyes blazed. “Everything I gave you, I want it back.”

 

“No way,” Jack said, keeping in character. “That stuff’s mine. I’m not giving it back.” He didn’t really care—he wasn’t attached to any of it, not even the watch—but “Jeff” would care.

 

“I’ll sue,” Angie threatened. 

 

“You won’t get very far. Those were gifts. You gave them to me fair and square. You can’t take them back.” Jack had watched enough Judge Judy to know that.

 

“Fine,” Angie said. “Just go. I never want to see you again.”

 

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” Jack said, hefting his duffel higher and brushing past her.

 

Angie grabbed his arm. “I hope somebody you love walks out on you someday, and I hope I’m around to see it.”

 

If only she knew. Jack had a reputation as a player, on and off the job, but it was all an act, a way to keep himself from getting hurt, a way to forget about the white picket fence and little Jacks running around he wanted so badly. The life he thought he’d had with Diane before it fell apart, the life he wanted with Sarah before she moved on to take a long-term assignment and left him. Still, he had to play the part. “Not going to happen,” he said with all the arrogance of a man who knew he could have any woman he wanted.

 

“Oh, I bet it will,” Angie said. “Then you’ll know what it feels like.”

 

“Whatever.” Jack none too gently disentangled his arm from her grip. He walked out the door, leaving Angie standing there, staring after him.

 

“You’ll be sorry,” she hollered.

 

Jack’s heart broke, not for Angie, but for him, destined to be alone, destined for anything good he had to crumble. If only she knew.


	4. Land of Lola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has been killing stocky, blond drag queens. Danny's just the person to draw them out.
> 
> Song: Land of Lola  
> Artist: Kinky Boots  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: McDanno  
> Rating: E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Missmeagan666 who wanted a story where a serial killer is murdering blond drag queens because her husband divorced her for one, saying the drag queen was prettier. Hope I did it justice!

A face flashed on the screen. “This is Carla St. James, age 42,” Jerry said. “Her husband Mike just divorced her. He cheated on her with a drag queen who, I quote, is ‘prettier than she is’.”

 

Steve studied the picture. Carla was a mousy dirty blonde who looked older than her 42 years. She wasn’t ugly by any means, but she wasn’t what most people would call attractive. Steve could see how a shallow guy could leave her for someone better-looking, male or female or somewhere in between. Still, leaving her for a drag queen was cold. “Danny’d be a prettier drag queen than she is,” Steve blurted out. The rest of the team shot odd glances his way. Oops, he probably shouldn’t have said it, even though it was true. Pictures of Danny in a slinky formal, stretching across his broad shoulders, hugging his tight ass, and slit up the thigh to reveal toned legs ran through Steve’s mind, and he found himself getting hard. Hopefully, the others would think the remark was his usual snark and not a revelation of his darkest fantasies.

 

It seemed to work. Danny turned a bemused glance on Steve. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

 

It’s a compliment! Steve wanted to shout. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you’d be a fucking knockout as a drag queen! That would show far more of his feelings than Steve wanted to, though. Instead, he just shrugged and tried to sound nonchalant. “Take it however you want.”

 

“Funny you should mention Danny and drag queens,” Tani said. She swiped the table, and four headshots popped up. All were blond, all were stocky and on the shorter side, all were dressed in drag, and all were gorgeous. And all were dead, presumably murdered by Carla as proxies for the woman her husband had left her for. “Carla seems to have a type, and it seems to bear more than a passing resemblance to Danny.”

 

“You haven’t been moonlighting as a drag queen and not telling us, have you Danny?” Lou quipped. That did nothing to dampen Steve’s arousal. God, that would be so hot. Definitely something he would pay to see.

 

Danny glared at Lou. “Very funny, Lou. No, I have not, and this better not be heading the way I think it is.”

 

“If you think we’re going to suggest Steve send you in as a drag queen to draw out our killer,” Tani said, “I’d say you’re right.”

 

“Hell, no,” Danny said firmly. “There’s no way I’m putting on a dress. One of you can do it,”

 

“Not me,” Tani said promptly. “I’m missing some important equipment.”

 

“It’s gotta be you, Danny. You’re the one that fits the profile.” Steve wasn’t sure whether to be glad or sad about that. On the one hand, actually seeing Danny in a dress would be a dream come true. On the other hand, Steve wasn’t sure his heart could take it.

 

“Anyone can put on a blonde wig,” Danny pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but not everyone has the right body type,” Steve countered. “’Fraid that means you, buddy.” Half of Steve was praying Danny agreed; the other half was praying he didn’t.

 

Danny let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, but I’m not wearing heels. Or a bra.”

 

“That’s okay,” Tani said. “None of the victims were padded. You’ll be just fine.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Five hours later, Steve was wishing Danny had said no. It would have been a lot easier on Steve’s libido. Steve was recalling every gruesome body he’d ever seen in what was rapidly proving to be a futile attempt to will his cock not to respond. Danny was stunning. No, Danny was _gorgeous_. He’d leave his wife for Danny, too, in a heartbeat. Danny was wearing a royal blue,  scoop neck tank dress that made his eyes, dusted with blue eye shadow, really pop. On some, the dress would make them look like they were wearing a gunny sack; on Danny, it clung to his body, emphasizing his broad chest and falling softly over his firm, round ass that Steve just wanted to grab and squeeze. The dress was topped by a white lace jacket that highlighted Danny’s shoulders even more. Clip-on pearl drop earrings hung from his ears, and a sapphire and rhinestone necklace emphasized Danny’s long, pale neck. God, how Steve wanted to suck his mark into that neck and hear Danny moan in pleasure. A long, blonde wig, reminiscent of the style Lynn had sported at one point, hung down Danny’s back. He’d lost the argument over heels, apparently, for he was wearing glittery silver character shoes; the heels were low enough and thick enough Danny hopefully wouldn’t be hampered too much if he had to run. The heels showed off his calves, and Steve could picture them wrapped around his back as he drove into Danny.

 

“Well, what do you think?” Danny asked. Was that a hint of nervousness? When Steve didn’t answer, Danny started babbling. “I look stupid. I know I look stupid. I should have never listened to Tani. . .”

 

Steve finally found his voice. “Danny,” he said, cutting off the flow of words. “You look fantastic.” Steve sounded a little too enthusiastic to his own ears. Maybe he should tone it down a little.

 

Danny honest to god blushed. “Thanks, babe, that means a lot to me.”

 

Steve clapped Danny on his shoulder, heat searing into Steve’s hand from the contact. “Let’s go catch a serial killer.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Steve surveyed the club, Land of Lola, from a booth in the back. He held a glass of whiskey, liberally watered, in  one  hand and  sipped from it from time to time. The club was packed. A striking man (or was it woman? Steve could never remember the terminology) with cocoa colored skin in a one-shouldered, sequined, red dress,  presumably Lola, sang in a sultry tone on stage, but the sound was mostly lost in the  swell of the crowd . Drag queens mingled with businessmen and even the odd woman. Most were natives, some with blonde wigs, but with distinctly dark skin, and most were too tall. Danny definitely stood out—as far as Steve was concerned, he was the best looking woman there—but he didn’t stand out  _enough_ .  Steve lost sight of his partner as the shorter man wove in and out of the crowd.

 

Steve was caught off guard when Danny materialized in front of him. The detective leaned forward, painted red lips hovering centimeters from Steve’s. Steve held his breath. What the hell was Danny doing? Danny wasn’t going to kiss him, was he? Steve’s pants tightened at the thought.

 

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on whether you were talking to Steve’s body or his brain), Danny didn’t. Instead, he whispered, lips barely moving, “See her yet?”

 

The words took a minute to register, mesmerized as Steve was by those plump lips so close and yet so far. “Huh?” He ripped his eyes away from Danny’s lips. “Oh. No, not yet.”

 

“Might as well take a load off, then.” Without warning, Danny plopped down in the booth next to Steve, leg brushing up against the SEAL’s. Steve tensed and hoped Danny didn’t notice. Danny didn’t seem to. “These shoes are killing me.”

 

“Let me buy you a drink,” Steve said, deciding to get in character, although he wasn’t exactly sure what character that was. Sitting in a darkened booth alone with Danny was _not_ in the plan. Steve would just have to go with it.

 

“No need,” Danny said with a smirk. “I’ll just have some of yours.” Danny’s hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s glass before he could react. The blond tilted his head back and swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. Steve swallowed, too, once again nearly overcome with the urge to suck on Danny’s neck.

 

Steve felt compelled to say something, anything. “You going to finish that?” he asked, voice coming out in an embarrassing squeak.

 

Danny took another swallow. God, did that man know what he was doing to Steve? “Maybe. Got nothing better to do.”

 

“Well, then you might as well pass the time with me,” Steve said. That was in character, right? Steve certainly hoped so. He was still feeling lost.

 

Danny rested his hand on top of Steve’s where it was lying on the table.  The blond scooted  r to his partner, running a foot up and down Steve’s calf. Steve tried to suppress a shudder, but he was pretty sure he failed. What the fuck was Danny doing?

 

“I’d love to,” Danny purred, honest to god _purred_ , leaning closer to Steve.

 

Steve scooted further away, practically falling out of the booth. He was so out of his depth here it wasn’t even funny. He frantically scanned the club looking for something, anything, to distract him. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned towards it and, to his great relief, saw Carla St. James make her way into the club. “She’s here,” Steve told Danny.

 

Danny finished his (really, Steve’s) drink and grabbed Steve’s hand, drawing him out of the booth. “Game time. Let’s go.”

 

Steve resisted. “Danny, what are you doing?” 

 

“Getting her attention.”

 

“But, why are you dragging me with you?” Steve asked.

 

“Because I can’t do it alone,” Danny said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it really wasn’t. “So, you’re going to help.”

 

“What am I going to do?” Steve asked, still resisting.

 

“You’ll see.” Danny tugged insistently at Steve’s arm, and the SEAL reluctantly slid out of the booth and followed Danny to the dance floor. This was not in the plan. This was so not in the plan. The plan was for Danny to draw the perp’s attention while Steve watched to make sure nothing happened, not for Steve to follow Danny onto the dance floor, and do what, exactly?

 

Steve didn’t have to wait long for the answer to his question. Danny turned his back to Steve and pressed against him, reaching up to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck and pressing his ass against Steve’s cock. Steve’s brain short-circuited. Fuck, Danny felt so good against him. Steve was having a hard enough time keeping his cock under control as it was; there was no way Danny couldn’t feel his erection.

 

If Danny did, he didn’t seem to mind, or at least he wasn’t showing it. Steve placed his hands on Danny’s waist and let himself be drawn into the dance, Danny’s hips swaying to the music and brushing tantalizingly against Steve with every movement. 

 

Steve was so lost in the moment he forgot to keep track of his surroundings until Danny suddenly flipped around  and pressed his front against Steve’s. “She’s coming this way,” Danny hissed.

 

Steve’s mind blanked, the entire plan vanishing from his mind in a flash. “Now what?”

 

“Now, we lead her outside.” Danny grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him towards the back door, opening it and shoving the SEAL through it when they got there. Steve stumbled into the alley. Danny surged into him, forcing Steve’s back up against the brick wall of the club and mashing their lips together. Steve froze for a second before kissing back. The kiss was sloppy, all tongues and teeth, and filthy, Danny’s tongue slipping into Steve’s mouth to twine about Steve’s as soon as he had the chance. It was hot and frantic, and Steve hoped it would never end.

 

The clanging of the back door caught Steve’s attention. He pulled away from Danny just in time to see a knife start to descend towards Danny’s neck. “Danny, watch out!” Steve cried, shoving the detective to the side, causing him to stumble and hit the ground.

 

Steve didn’t notice. His entire attention was focused on the deadly knife intent on taking his partner from him. Steve grabbed the wrist holding it and twisted it behind the perp’s back. She screamed as she dropped it, a haunting, primal sound. Steve pulled out his cuffs and snapped them on her. “You’re under arrest.” He noticed Tani and Junior appear at the mouth of the alley and shoved the perp towards them. “You take care of her. I’ve gotta see to Danny.”

 

Danny was braced on his hands in the dirt of the alley. Steve made his way over. “You okay, buddy?” God, that was an odd way to address the person whose tongue had just been down his throat.

 

Danny shook his head. “No, my knee. I think I twisted it.”

 

Steve instantly felt guilty. “Man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shoved you.”

 

Danny laughed, mirthlessly. “If you hadn’t shoved me, I’d be down here bleeding out, not just cursing a bum knee.”

 

Steve shuddered at the thought. He didn’t want to think about that. He extended a hand to Danny. “Let me help you up.”

 

Danny took the offered hand and slowly got to his feet, wincing as he tried to put weight on his bad leg. “Fuck.”

 

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Steve asked, worriedly.

 

Danny shook his head. “Nah, a little ice, and I’ll be fine.”

 

“Let’s get you home, then.” Without giving Danny time to protest, Steve swept him up in a bridal carry.

 

“Steven, put me down right now, you Neanderthal!” Danny shouted, pounding on Steve’s shoulder. Steve ignored him. “I mean it!” More pounding.

 

“Sorry, Danny, no can do. Either you let me carry you, or you go to the hospital. Your choice.”

 

“Fine.” Danny stopped struggling and relaxed in Steve’s arms. Steve breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if Danny kept resisting.

 

Steve got Danny strapped into the passenger seat of the Camaro and went around to the driver’s side. Danny was quiet as Steve started the engine and pointed the car towards his house. Steve wasn’t sure if it was because Danny was in pain or because of the whole dancing and kissing thing. What was that about, anyway? Ostensibly, it was about getting the perp’s attention, but Steve knew Danny had been turned on—that was obvious with how close Danny  had been  to Steve. Was it because he felt something for Steve, or was it just adren a lin e, or just a natural reaction to stimulation? Was this going to make things awkward between them?  Oh, God, what if it had ruined everything?

 

Steve’s train of thought was interrupted by Danny’s warm hand on his thigh, much higher than was appropriate for friends. Steve let himself hope for just a second it meant Danny wanted  whatever this was between them , too. “Babe, you’re thinking to hard.”

 

“Sorry,” Steve said. “It’s just, back there. . .”

 

“I know. We’ll talk about it when we get home, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Steve gripped the wheel tighter. Maybe Danny didn’t feel the same way. Steve wouldn’t be surprised. He knew from passing references Danny wasn’t entirely straight, but Danny had never shown any interest in _him_. Even if Danny did want Steve, it was probably just to let off steam.

 

Danny’s hand squeezed Steve’s thigh, and Steve found himself reacting. “Babe, it’s nothing bad, don’t worry. I think we just need to talk before we go any further.”

 

Steve’s hope revived. “So, does this mean you want to?” he asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

 

Another squeeze. “When we get home,” Danny said, firmly. “After I’ve had some ibuprofen and some ice and am settled in bed with you and about a million pillows.”

 

Steve’s heart soared at being included in Danny’s cozy scene. “Okay, Danny, sounds good.”

 

Steve pulled up in his driveway behind the Silverado, as close to the door as he could get. Danny didn’t even seem surprised that  they  were at Steve’s and not Danny’s. Steve figured Danny would be used to it by now; anytime Danny was injured, Steve brought him here and fussed over him. It was just because Danny shouldn’t be left alone. It had nothing to do with Steve being head over heels in love with the man.  This time, though, maybe Steve wouldn’t have to hide his feelings behind brotherly concern.

 

Silently, Steve carried Danny into the house and up the stairs without protest from the other man. Steve helped Danny out of the dress, shoes, and wig, mourning the loss, but it was more than made up for by the sight of Danny naked except for his boxers. God, Danny was breathtaking. Steve dared to hope that maybe that beautiful package was now all his. He’d just have to wait and see.

 

Steve made sure Danny had some ibuprofen and ice and found an Ace bandage to wrap his knee, something Steve was getting far too good at. Hopefully, Danny would stop wrecking his knee so often. Steve found all the pillows he could and used them to prop Danny’s knee and prop Danny himself against the headboard. Steve then went down to lock up the house for the night.  When he returned to the bedroom, he put on a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt and turned towards Danny, not sure what to do next.

 

Danny patted the space beside him. Steve climbed in and laid his head in Danny’s lap. “We going to talk now?” Steve asked.

 

Steve couldn’t see Danny’s face, but he could hear the grin in Danny’s voice. “Kind of hard to talk with your head in my lap.”

 

“Good. Talking is overrated.” Steve nuzzled Danny’s bare thigh. Danny let out a soft sigh, so Steve did it again. 

 

Danny rested his hand on Steve’s head. “Stop, Steve.”

 

Steve stopped. “Do you not want this?” Steve certainly hoped Danny did, but it was possible the SEAL was reading things wrong.

 

Danny stroked Steve’s hair. “No, I want this, god, I want this, it’s just. . .”

 

Steve lifted himself up and looked Danny in the eye. “Danny, tell me you want this, and tell me it isn’t just sex. That’s all I need to know.”

 

Piercing blue eyes bore into Steve’s. “I do, and it’s not,” Danny said, and Steve could hear the truth in his voice.

 

Steve nodded, satisfied. “Okay, then.” He placed his head in Danny’s lap once more and resumed his nuzzling. Steve moved from Danny’s thigh to his crotch, nosing at Danny’s cock and feeling it harden.  Steve mouthed it over the cotton of Danny’s boxers, and Danny let out a groan.

 

“God, Steve, that feels so good.”

 

“It’s going to feel even better,” Steve promised. He grasped the waistband of Danny’s boxers and tugged. Danny obligingly raised his hips enough for Steve to push the boxers down far enough to free Danny’s cock. Steve licked his lips at the sight of the pulsing, red member, precome dribbling down the tip. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

 

“Go ahead.” Danny fisted Steve’s hair and guided the SEAL to his cock. 

 

Steve didn’t have to be told twice. He lapped at the bead of precome and groaned. “God, you taste good.” Steve licked a long stripe up Danny’s cock, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking it in his mouth. He sucked lightly at the head. Danny moaned. “Fuck, that’s good.”

 

Steve sucked harder before letting go with a pop. He repeated the base to tip motion, then ran his tongue back down, continuing past the base to lick at Danny’s balls. Danny gasped and gripped Steve’s hair tightly, not forcing him, just holding on.

 

Steve continued to work Danny’s balls for a moment, taking first one then the other in his mouth and rolling them across his tongue. Danny was reduced to incoherence, making Steve proud he could do that to the normally talkative man. Steve gave one last lick to Danny’s balls and returned to his cock, once again licking from base to tip before swallowing the head. “Yes, Steve, don’t stop.”

 

Steve didn’t. He set up a bobbing rhythm, up and down, varying it by swirling his tongue around the tip every so often. His cock was uncomfortably hard, so he stuck a hand down his sleep pants and started stroking in time with his bobbing.

 

Danny’s moans grew in volume and intensity. “Steve! So good! Feels so good! Fuck! Fuck, Steve! I’m so close!”

 

At that, Steve took Danny as deep as he could and sucked hard. Danny screamed, and hot come pulsed down Steve’s throat. He swallowed eagerly and pulled off Danny’s cock, rolling onto his back and working his cock as hard and fast as he could. It only took a few pulls before Steve came with a shout. “Danny!”

 

They both lay there, exhausted and panting. Danny spoke first. “Damn, I wish my knee didn’t hurt. There’s so much I want to do to you.”

 

Steve propped himself up on his hand and smirked at Danny. “There’s time.”

 

Danny beckoned Steve up, and he obligingly rose to meet Danny in a soft, tender kiss full of promise. It was even better than the hot, frantic kiss at the club, because this one was full of meaning. “Yeah, babe,” Danny said when they parted. “All the time in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping for more with the undressing and worshiping Danny, but that pesky knee got in the way. Hopefully, it's still hot!


	5. Murder on Music Row

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack laments the death of country music.
> 
> Song: Murder on Music Row  
> Artist: Alan Jackson and George Strait  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mainly just a treatise on country music. Some of it reflects my own opinion, some of it doesn't. I can see Jack liking the new stuff, but not thinking it's really country.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Jack asked as Mac came back laden with sausage sandwiches and beer.

 

“Couldn’t decide what to get,” Mac said, “and you were no help.” Mac passed two sausages and a cup of beer to Jack before joining him on the blanket they’d spread in the shade. They had arrived at the Suds and Sausage Listener Appreciation Concert for Jack’s favorite country station early enough to get a good spot where they were out of the sun, could still hear the bands decently, and weren’t too far from the concession stands. “Just get what looks good,” Mac mimicked. “Do you know how many beer and sausage vendors they have here? There must be a dozen of each.”

 

Jack tore into his first sandwich. “Mmm, this is great. You did good.”

 

Mac wiggled around to get more comfortable. “I’m glad, because I’m not braving those crowds again. You get to get the next round.”

 

“You’ve got a deal,” Jack said through a mouthful of sausage.

 

Mac grimaced. “Didn’t your mom teach you not to talk with your mouth ful?”

 

Jack swallowed before answering. “Sorry.”

 

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the good food and listening to the current band playing, someone local neither of them had heard of. “I like these guys,” Mac said, eventually, breaking the silence. “There’s good.”

 

Jack shrugged. “They’re okay.”

 

“What’s wrong with them?” Mac asked.

 

“I mean they’re good,” Jack said, “but look at them.” He gestured at the band. “It’s all drums and guitars and basses. Where’s the fiddle? Where’s the steel guitar?”

 

“That doesn’t mean they’re not good,” Mac pointed out.

 

“No, but it means they’re not _country_ ,” Jack said, adamantly.

 

“Then, why’d you come?” Mac wanted to know.

 

“I came for Randy Travis,” Jack said, naming the concert headliner.

 

“You know he’ll be on last,” Mac said. “We could have come later.”

 

“Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have gotten a good spot,” Jack said. “Besides, I don’t _not_ like them. They’ve got a good sound, their lyrics are good, and I like the singer, but they’re just. . .”

 

“Not country,” Mac said.

 

“No one is anymore,” Jack lamented. “Just look at the CMA awards. Dierks Bentley, Carrie Underwood, Keith Urban, Little Big Town, they’re all great, but they’re not Willie Nelson or even George Strait. Now, _they_ were country.”

 

“Isn’t Garth Brooks performing?” Mac asked. “Surely, he’s country.”

 

“Yeah, but he only comes out for special occasions. Sure, you’ve got Alan Jackson and Toby Keith, but a lot of the greats are retired.” Jack got a far away look in his eyes. “I remember when you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing a George Strait song. I caught his first tour and his last. First tour he came out on stage and stood there like a lump, but man, was the music good,” Jack reminisced. “He’d come a long way by the Cowboy Rides Away tour. Man, that was something.”

 

“Did you ever hear Willie Nelson live?” Mac asked. Surprisingly, Jack had never mentioned it.

 

“Hell, yeah,” Jack enthused. “First saw him at the county fair when I was six. Seen him five or six times since then, each time better than the last. _No one_ beats Willie Nelson.”

 

“Not even Hank Williams?” Mac teased. He knew Hank Williams was another favorite of Jack’s.

 

“Not even old Hank,” Jack said.

 

The current band finished, and a minor new Nashville recording artist took the stage. The men listened in silence for a few minutes.

 

“I’m guessing she’s not country, either,” Mac said. 

 

“Nope,” Jack confirmed.

 

“So, who is?” Mac asked, curiously.

 

“Not a lot of the newcomers,” Jack said. “There’s still a few greats, though. Alan Jackson, Toby Keith. Brad Paisley doesn’t necessarily sound country, but he sure nails the themes.”

 

“So, why do you still listen?”

 

“Because the stations still play some of the good stuff, especially this one. They’ve got a five hour classics show on Sunday nights I love,” Jack said. “And, like I said, the new stuff’s not bad, you just have to take it on its own merit, which isn’t country.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mac said.

 

They continued to listen as the artists came and went, most of them pretty good, but none of them living up to Jack’s ideal of “country”. Finally, Randy Travis took the stage.

 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Jack said as the strains of Forever and Ever, Amen filled the air.

 

Mac could see what Jack meant. He’d enjoyed the other artists, a lot, but the re was something about Travis’ twang that was magic. The warm voice swept over Mac in waves, soothing him, transporting him. Jack was right— _that_ was country.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually caught an early George Strait tour, and yes, he was a lump on stage. Missed the Cowboy Rides away, although my husband offered to get me tickets. Never seen Willie Nelson and never really wanted to--unlike Jack, he's not one of my favorites. :)


	6. It Takes a Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junior needs a little help with his plumbing.
> 
> Song: It Takes a Woman  
> Artist: Hello, Dolly!  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fun at Junior's expense.

“Tani, I need help,” Junior’s voice came over the line.

 

Tani was immediately on alert. She made her way through her house to the door, grabbing her gun on the way. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Junior was quick to assure her. “I just need a referral to a plumber. I figured since you have your own place and all, you might know one.”

 

Tani wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than Junior being held at gunpoint. “What did you do?”

 

“There might have been a little issue with the toilet,” Junior said. “I might have flooded it. Then it wouldn’t flush at all.”

 

“Oh, man, McGarrett’s going to kill you if you flooded his house while he and Danny are at that conference,” Tani said.

 

“I know!” Junior said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “That’s why I need a plumber!”

 

“No, you don’t,” Tani said. “You just need a plunger.”

 

“A what?”

 

Was Junior really that helpless? Did the big, bad SEAL not know how to unstop a toilet? “You know what, never mind.” Tani put her gun away and grabbed her helmet and keys. “I’ll be right there.”

 

“What can you do?” Junior asked.

 

“What do you mean, what can I do? I can take a look at it, maybe fix it. I do know a thing or two about clogged toilets,” Tani said.

 

“But you’re a woman!”

 

Tani was stunned to hear Junior say something like that. She knew he was traditional, but that was something else altogether. “Ah, man, you did not just say that.”

 

“Sorry,” Junior quickly apologized. “It’s just that. . .”

 

Tani cut him off. “You know what? Save it. I could just as easily say you should know how to fix it yourself because you’re a man.”

 

“I’m a SEAL!” Junior said, as if that explained everything.

 

It didn’t. “Yeah, so?” Tani said. “I’m sure they have clogged toilets in the Navy.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t have to clean them!” By this point, Junior was sounding slightly hysterical.

 

Tani sighed. “Just sit tight. I’ll be right there.”

 

Twenty minutes and a trip to the hardware store later (just in case Steve really didn’t have a plunger), Tani was staring at Steve’s toilet, Junior beside her.

 

“See, it doesn’t work,” he said, reaching for the handle.

 

Tani put her hand on Junior’s arm, stopping him. “No, don’t, you’ll just make it overflow again.”

 

“That’d be bad, wouldn’t it?” Junior said with a frown.

 

“That’d be bad,” Tani confirmed. “Hand me the plunger.”

 

Junior passed it over (turned out Steve did, in fact, have a plunger, so Tani had stopped for nothing). She sealed the plunger over the toilet and plunged with all her might, putting her back into it. She heard a sucking sound, and the water turned a vile brown with bits floating in it. Tani held her nose. “Gross.”

 

“So, will it work now?” Junior asked.

 

“I think so.” Tani reached for the handle. Nothing happened except a few bubbles.

 

“Now what?” Junior asked. “I thought that was supposed to fix it.”

 

“I think you have a different problem,” Tani said. She lifted the lid off the tank and peered it. “Yep, the float slipped its chain.”

 

“Hunh?”

 

Tani couldn’t believe how clueless Junior was about simple home maintenance. Good thing he was thinking about renting, not buying. “It’s nothing.” She fiddled around a minute then replaced the lid and pressed down on the handle. The toilet gave a satisfying flush, clear water replacing the brown muck. “There, all better.”

 

“Thanks, Tani,” Junior said, effusively. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

 

“Probably spent a fortune on a plumber and left an inch of water all over Steve’s bathroom,” Tani said.

 

“Probably,” Junior agreed. He followed Tani downstairs.

 

Tani started to leave but paused at the door. She couldn’t resist teasing Junior just a little. “Too bad I’m just a woman, hunh?”

 

Junior had the good grace to blush. “Yeah, sorry about that. I shouldn’t have underestimated you.”

 

Tani patted his cheek. “Don’t worry about it. You’re just lucky I was around.”

 

“Yeah,” Junior said. “I definitely am.”


	7. Start a Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack didn't always plan to join the army. . .
> 
> Song: Start a Band  
> Artist: Brad Paisley and Keith Urban  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: G

“Alright, who’s up for karaoke tonight?” Jack asked as the gang gathered their stuff to leave Phoenix. It had been a quiet week, but they were still finishing up paperwork from their prior case, a three-week clusterfuck in Eastern Europe even Bozer and Leanna had been involved with—and been involved with it going sideways. The explanations, the interviews, and the reports were dragging on forever, it seemed like, and all five could use a break.

 

“No karaoke!” Bozer, Mac, and Riley said as one.

 

“Ah, you’re spoiling my fun,” Jack pouted.

 

“What’s wrong with karaoke?” Leanna wanted to know.

 

“Nothing’s wrong with karaoke,” Riley said. “It’s just Jack and karaoke you have to worry about.”

 

“Yeah,” Mac chimed in, “if you’ve never heard Jack sing, consider yourself lucky. He’s terrible.”

 

“Hey, I’m a karaoke champion in four states!” Jack protested.

 

“You keep saying that,” Mac said, “but so far the only evidence I have is all to the contrary.”

 

“I’m wounded,” Jack said, putting his hand dramatically over his heart. “I’ll have you know I was in a band in high school. We were going to be the next Metallica.”

 

“This I gotta hear,” Riley said. “Have you heard this story, Mac?”

 

Mac shook his head. “No, but I’m looking forward to it. I can just see Jack in a garage band.”

 

“Yeah,” Bozer said. “Did you have a mohawk and everything?”

 

“Of course!” Jack said. “That’s when I started wearing my wristband, paying homage to my idols.” He held up his wrist to illustrate his point, as if they all hadn’t seen it a million times.

 

“Okay, you have to tell us this story,” Mac said.

 

“On two conditions,” Jack said. “One, you’re buying the beer. Two, we do karaoke afterwards.”

 

The other four looked at each other, silently asking each other with their eyebrows if the story was worth putting up with Jack singing karaoke. Finally, they seemed to come to a decision. Mac spoke for the group. “Deal.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

An hour later, the gang was sitting around a table in Jack’s favorite karaoke club. They had a couple of hours before karaoke started, plenty of time for Jack to tell his story. Mac carried a tray with a pitcher of beer and five glasses to the table and handed them out, pouring one for Jack and setting it in front of him with a flourish. “Here’s your beer. Now, talk.”

Jack took a large swig of beer and wiped his mouth. He settled back in his chair and began to talk as the others hung on his every word.

 

“Once upon a time (no old jokes, please),” he began, “in the great state of Texas, little Jack Dalton was a senior in high school. . .”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“How was school today?” Jack’s mom asked as he slunk into the kitchen, trying to snag a snack without having to talk to his ma. He should have known it wouldn’t work. “Wasn’t the college fair today?”

 

“Yeah,” Jack said without enthusiasm.

 

“Well? Are there any you’re interested in?”

 

Jack shrugged.

 

“Texas A&M? University of Texas?” his mom pressed. “You know your dad and I would love it if you were an Aggie, or even a Longhorn.”

 

Jack groaned. “Come on, Ma, you know I’m not the college type.”

 

“Military, then,” his mom said. “You could follow your dad into the Army. He’d be so proud for you to follow in his footsteps.”

 

“Maybe,” Jack said. He’d considered it, but he had bigger plans.

 

“You must have some idea what you want to do after graduation,” his mom said, exasperated.

 

“I do!” Jack said. “I’m going to start a band. We’re going to be the next Metallica.”

 

Jack’s little sister came into the kitchen just in time to hear his last statement. She snorted. “Good luck with that. You don’t even know how to play, and you can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Jack said with the confidence only a teen has. “We just have to play loud enough.”

 

“And who’s going to be in this band?” his sister wanted to know.

 

“Me, Brad, Alan, Keith, and George. Alan’s dad’s letting us use his garage to practice.”

 

Jack’s mom had turned her attention to fixing supper, but she chimed back in. “That poor man. I hope he knows what he’s getting into.”

 

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Jack said. “Just wait. We’re going to be the next big name in heavy metal. Next thing you know, you’ll hear us on the Top 40.”

 

“Maybe you should start small,” his sister suggested. “My boyfriend’s dad has a club, and they have teen night once a month.”

 

“That’s a great idea!” Jack said. “That gives us a whole month to rehearse!”

 

“What are you going to play?” his sister asked. “Metallica covers? It’s not like you don’t know all their songs by heart.”

 

“Nah,” Jack said. “We’re writing our own songs.”

 

“You know nothing about writing music,” his sister said, dubiously.

 

“I told you,” Jack said, “it doesn’t matter. It just matters how loud we are.”

 

“Good luck with that,” his sister said.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

It took them two months and a change of rehearsal space (Alan’s dad did not, in fact, know what he was getting into when he told them they could use the garage, and he banished them after one session. Fortunately, Keith’s girlfriend had a soundproofed basement they could use. For some reason, the girlfriend was conspicuously absent from their rehearsals), but at last Metalrama made their big debut at The Watering Hole, Jack’s sister’s boyfriend’s father’s bar. It was a homey place, checked tablecloths, wooden bar stools, sawdust on the floor, mechanical bull in the corner, and served the best barbecue in town. However, it was definitely more suited to Willie Nelson than to Metallica.

 

“That’s okay,” Jack said as he slung the second hand electric guitar he’d saved up and bought across his shoulder (his parents had refused to contribute to what they said was a “complete waste of time”). “We’re going to knock them dead! This club has never seen anything like us!”

 

“That’s one way of putting it,” Jack’s sister, who had come backstage with them, said.

 

“Are you sure about this?” George asked. “I’m not sure we’re ready.”

 

Jack clapped him on his shoulder. “Of course we’re ready! Let’s do this!”

 

Hooting and hollering, Jack led his considerably less enthusiastic fellow band members onto the stage as the emcee said “Let’s put your hands together for Metalrama!” A round of lackluster applause greeted them.

 

That was the best reaction they got all night. Their opening (dis)chords caused a feedback loop that had the audience covering their ears practically before the band started. It went down hill from there. None of the band members were playing in the same key (that’s okay! That’s part of the point! Jack claimed), and half of them were a beat behind the other half. They got politely dismissed after one song and left the stage far more downhearted than they’d come on. All except Jack who was over the moon. “That was epic!” he said, putting up a hand for a high five.

 

No one responded.

 

“You guys sucked rocks,” Jack’s sister said, gleefully.

 

“We were awesome,” Jack insisted.

 

“Dude, your sister’s right,” Brad said. “Nobody even clapped.”

 

“One person clapped,” Jack protested.

 

“That was your mom,” George said, “and she was probably wearing earplugs.”

 

“Whatever,” Jack said. “We’ll do better next month.” Four shaking heads met his pronouncement. “What? We’re playing next month, right?”

 

Keith spoke for the group. “I don’t think so, man.”

 

Jack was crushed. “But what about our dream? We were going to be the next Metallica.”

 

Alan removed his guitar. “Yeah, I think it’s time for a new dream.”

 

Jack looked at his friends, disappointed. “Seriously, guys? That’s how it ends?”

 

George slapped him on the shoulder as the four boys filed out. “’Fraid so, Jack. Best of luck to you.”

 

Jack’s sister was watching the scene unfold with glee. “Guess the Army’s looking better and better,” she said.

 

“Guess so,” Jack said, miserably.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“And that’s the story of how Jack Dalton was almost a rock star,” Jack said.

 

Mac patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy, you’re a rock star in the field.”

 

“Yeah,” Bozer agreed, “ain’t nobody better than you at watching our backs.”

 

Jack took a swallow of beer. “Thanks, guys, I appreciate it. In the meantime, there’s still karaoke.” He stood up to go sign up.

 

The other four groaned. “Do you have to?” Riley said.

 

“You promised,” Jack pointed out.

 

“Yeah, we did,” Mac said. “Go for it, buddy.”

 

As Jack walked off, Mac reached in his pocket and withdrew something. “Brought something I thought you guys would appreciate.” He uncurled his fingers to reveal four sets of earplugs.

 

The others took them, gratefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the band members are named after country stars.
> 
> I don't think we know much about Jack's family, so I assumed he was still in Texas for high school and gave him a sister, because Jack seems like he should have an annoying little sister. :)


	8. Before the Parade Passes By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bozer was living the life of his deepest fantasy, but what happened to the dream he put on hold?
> 
> Song: Before the Parade Passes By  
> Artist: Hello, Dolly!  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: T for language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about doing Danny and the restaurant, but that's been done to death on and off the show, so I decided on this, instead. 
> 
> Sometimes I wonder if Bozer ever misses being a film maker, so I decided to delve into his mind and find out.

Bozer was expecting the email from his old friend from film school—expecting and dreading it. He knew what it said—he still followed all the festivals, and he’d seen the news—but Bozer opened it anyway.

 

**Hey, Boze!**

 

**Great news! I got an honorable mention at Sundance! For a feature film! First in our class! Who’d have thunk? Always thought you’d be the first!**

 

Bozer read the email a third time, filled with conflicting emotions. He was happy for his friend, really happy, but depressed, too. Bozer thought he’d be the first to win at a major film festival— they all had —he’d already taken top honors at several small  festival s in the LA area, some even with a fair amount of prestige associated with them. Never anything big, though.

 

Bozer really thought he was on the way. When he quit his cook’s job, Bozer had been serious about focusing on his film making. He’d outlined a new project, made up a business plan, and was starting to pitch it to potential investors. He was sure he’d make Sundance within five years,  maybe less .

 

Then, Murdoc had happened, and  Bozer had gotten the job with Phoenix, and gone to spy school, and started living every teen aged boy’s wet dream of being James Bond. Sure, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as the movies made it out to be— Leanna aside, Bozer wasn’t drowning in beautiful women, and he was scared shitless on a regular basis, and it was a wonder the stab wound from Murdoc was the only serious wound he’d ever sustained—but it was still pretty fucking glamorous. Bozer loved his job, and he loved being a spy—most of the time—but there was part of him that still thought all that stuff should stay in movies—movies Bozer should be making.

 

Bozer looked around the lab at Sparky, at the row of masks of every shape and size he’d designed, at sketches for disguises, at the new, waterproof compound he was working on. It was all pretty impressive, and  Bozer was getting a reputation such that even the CIA had asked for his expertise. It was more than he’d ever dreamed of.

 

What it wasn’t was what he  _ had _ dreamed of. From the time he was in middle school, Bozer had dreamed about being a film maker. When he got into film school, he was sure he was on his way. Every small project, every award, every crazy science fiction monster he’d ever dressed Mac up as were all part of the larger picture. But now the picture was blurry and faded. Did Bozer really want it to fade away to nothing?

 

No, Bozer decided, he didn’t. Just like when he’d quit when he’d been offered the manager’s position, Bozer was through putting his dreams on hold. Never mind this fantasy life he was living, the one he’d been so enamored of for so long—it wasn’t real, wasn’t ever supposed to be. Just a dream that would soon fade away. Film making, that was real. That was his destiny.

 

Mind made up, Bozer typed out a reply to his friend’s email.

 

** Next year, buddy! Watch out, I’m coming for you! **

 

Bozer hit send with a flourish. Sundance, here comes Bozer.


	9. He Ain't Worth Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine's gone, but Danny's still here.
> 
> Song: He Ain't Worth Missing  
> Artist: Toby Keith  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: McDanno  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set at the end of 6.3 after Catherine leaves.
> 
> Really, this would work for any of them, but there's not enough H50 yet, even if Land of Lola is the only one with a pairing so far (Lesson in Leavin' doesn't count cause it's not the boys), so, here you go.

Steve held his breath as the phone rang. Once, twice. . . _Please, Danny, pick up_ , he thought. He blinked hard, trying to keep his tears from falling. Steve couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d been so sure Catherine would say yes. Instead, she’d not only turned him down, she’d left, left “to find herself”, left again, just like she had in Afghanistan, chosen those less fortunate over him. Steve couldn’t begrudge her her desire to help others; he just wished he meant as much to her.

 

Just as Steve was about to hang up, Danny’s voice came on the line. “Hey, Steve! Didn’t expect to hear from you! Figured you and Catherine would be celebrating.”

 

Steve  opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried to say something,  anything,  but he couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat. The tears spilled down his cheeks, silently; Steve could hold them back no longer.

 

“Steve? Steve, are you okay? Talk to me, babe, you’re worrying me,” Danny’s voice came over the line. He did, indeed, sound worried.

 

Steve swallowed hard, working hard not to  break down completely . “Danny,” he finally said, brokenly. “ _Danny_ .”

 

Danny, god bless him, got the message immediately. “Ah, babe, that sucks. I’ll be right there. I’ll bring beer.”

 

Steve nodded, then realized Danny couldn’t see him. “Oookkaay,” Steve stammered. “Tttthhhankk you.”

 

“Anytime, babe.” Danny’s voice was gentle, soothing. “Five minutes, okay? I’ll be there in five minutes.” Steve gave another nod Danny couldn’t see and hung up.

 

Danny was on Steve’s doorstep in four minutes and 35 seconds, not that Steve was counting. He spent the entire time he was waiting sitting on the couch, hands resting on his knees, staring at the floor, trying to get himself under control. He’d managed to stop the tears, but he still wasn’t sure he wouldn’t break down at a moment’s notice.

 

Danny barged in without knocking, as usual. For once, Steve was grateful. He didn’t think he could move right now. Steve had no energy, no will to do anything but sit there and wallow in self-pity. 

 

“I brought beer, lots of it,” Danny said, holding up a six-pack in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. Steve wondered idly what was in it before Danny spoke again and answered the question. “And ice cream. Chocolate chip cookie dough. Grace swears by it, swears there’s nothing like it to cure a broken heart, not that she knows, god, I hope she never knows.” Danny moved towards the kitchen. Steve heard him getting out bowls and spoons and opening bottles even as he rambled on. “Me, I put my money on the beer, but who am I to tell my monkey she’s wrong, know what I mean? So, I figure we can try both. Not going to hurt anything, right?” Danny came out of the kitchen holding two bottles and two heaping bowls of ice cream. Steve just sat there, barely acknowledging his friend.

 

Danny sat down beside Steve, setting his load on the coffee table. The blond laid a gentle hand  on the SEAL’s shoulder. “Hey, babe, it’s okay. You’ll get through it.  _We’ll_ get through it.”

 

Steve didn’t answer. He just sat there, soaking up Danny’s warmth. Steve’s shoulders began to shake, and he could feel himself crumbling, breaking into a million pieces. “She left, Danny,” he moaned. “She  _left_ . She said she was staying, then she  _left_ . Again. Just like she did in Afghanistan.”

 

“That’s rough, man,” Danny said, softly.

 

“You were right,” Steve said, finally breaking down completely, sobs wracking his body. “I should have listened to you.”

 

Danny gathered Steve in his arms, pressing Steve’s face to his broad chest, stroking his hair, his back comfortingly. Steve fisted his hands in Danny’s shirt, never wanting to let go. “I just wanted you to think it through, to be sure,” Danny said. “I never thought she’d actually leave.” He paused. “Okay, that’s a lie. I thought she might. I even asked her about it, asked if she was going to stay. You know what she said?” Steve shook his head as best he could, caught in Danny’s embrace. “She said there was nothing she wanted more. The bitch,” Danny spat.

 

Even with his heart broken, Steve couldn’t bear to hear Danny badmouth Catherine. “Catherine’s not a bitch. She was doing what she thought was best for her.”

 

“Screw that,” Danny said. “What about what’s best for you? Did she ever thing about that, huh? Did she ever think about what it would do to you if she left, _again_?”

 

Steve sniffled, sobs finally slowing. He took a deep breath and sat up, reluctantly loosening his hold on Danny. “I’ll be alright.”

 

“Of course you will,” Danny said, adamantly. “You shouldn’t spare her another thought. She’s not worth it.”

 

“I can’t help it,” Steve confessed. “I wanted to marry her. And then she left. Seems like everybody leaves.” Steve was sinking into despair. He knew it, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

 

Danny’s hand clasped Steve’s shoulder again. “I’m not leaving,” Danny said in a voice that  left no doubt he meant it.

 

Steve wanted to believe Danny, he really did, but right now he couldn’t see how anyone would want to stay with a mess like him. “You don’t know that,” Steve said. “One day, I’ll probably drive you away, too.”

 

“Hey, no,” Danny said, voice soft but firm. “You’re not driving anyone away. This is on them, not you. They chose to leave, and that’s their loss. I’m telling you right now, I’m not going to do that to you, _ever_.”

 

Steve was still inconsolable. “That’s great, but it still doesn’t change the fact I’m going to be all alone the rest of my life. I thought I’d have Catherine, but I was wrong.”

 

Danny punched Steve in the shoulder, not very hard, but hard enough to sting. “Have you been listening to me? I just said I wasn’t leaving.”

 

As much as Steve didn’t want them to, the tears were coursing down his cheeks again. “Yeah, but it’s not the same. You’re not Catherine.”

 

Danny’s free hand crashed into the coffee table. “Damn Catherine! I just told you, she’s not worth beating yourself up over. You deserve so much better than her.”

 

Steve drew his arm across his face, grimacing when it came away covered in tears and snot. “Yeah, but who’s going to want to spend the rest of their life with a washed-up former SEAL with abandonment issues?”

 

“Me,” Danny said, softly, so softly Steve wasn’t sure he heard him right.

 

“What?” Steve said, gaping at Danny, unable to believe his ears.

 

Danny’s hand disappeared from his shoulder, and Steve immediately mourned the loss. Danny drew into himself, looking like he was trying to sink into the sofa. “Never mind, forget I said anything. Let’s just get drunk off our asses and pretend that didn’t just happen.” He reached for his beer, but Steve stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

 

“No, Danny, that’s not what I meant. It’s just. . .” Steve trailed off, trying to put what he felt into words. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

 

Danny took a deep breath, not looking Steve in the eye. “Well, I do. I have for f ive fucking years, but you’ve always had Catherine. With her gone, I guess I just hoped. . .” Danny laughed, mirthlessly. “Pretty fucking stupid of me, hunh?”

 

Steve let go of Danny’s wrist and drew his hand up an arm dusted in golden hair. It was soft under Steve’s touch, so much softer than he’d imagined. He cupped Danny’s stubbled cheek, reveling in the rough texture under his palm. “ No, Danny, it’s not stupid at all. I just never let myself thing about it. Never had to.”

 

“Now, though,” Danny said in a small, hopeful voice, “do you think you’d think about it now?”

 

Steve’s thumb stroked the side of Danny’s face. The SEAL nodded. “I’d think about it, yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ready right this minute, it’s going to take time, but I think. . .” Steve trailed off, then nodded, decisively. “I think I’d like that.”

 

Danny searched Steve’s eyes, probably looking for any sign that Steve wasn’t sincere. Steve gazed back, opening himself up, trying to show Danny his soul, show Danny just how sincere he was. After a minute, Danny nodded, too. He leaned in slowly, giving Steve a chance to pull away. Steve didn’t. Next thing Steve knew, chapped lips pressed against his, ever so softly, a promise that Danny would wait for him.

 

“Take your time,” Danny said.

 

With this to look forward to, maybe it wouldn’t take as long as Steve thought.


	10. Facade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has so many faces, sometimes he doesn't remember who he is. Good thing Mac's there to remind him.
> 
> Song: Facade  
> Artist: Jeckyll and Hyde  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: MacDalton  
> Rating: M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out to be just another introspection (this one seems to have a lot of them), but Mac was clamoring to be part of it, so you get this sexy (I hope) little piece. It's very different for me, so I hope you like it. Lavendersblues gets a nod for The Nature of Names which heavily influenced this.

“May I see some ID?”

 

Jack Dalton whipped out his wallet and slapped it down on the check-in counter. The woman behind the desk looked at the picture, then looked at Jack.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Jacoby. . .”

 

. . .Mr. Bung.

 

. . .Mr. Jackson

 

. . .Mr. Smith

 

. . .and a hundred others. A crime lord, an accountant, a sausage king, a bathroom tile salesman. Different names, different stories, same face. All Jack Dalton, and none Jack Dalton.

 

Some days, even Jack could barely remember who he was. Jack Dalton, proud Texan, former Delta Force, karaoke champion, Metallica fan got buried under all the aliases he used in his line of work. Some days, someone would call his name, his real name, and he wouldn’t even respond. Some days, he’d wake up confused, wondering where he was, _who_ he was, only to realize he was asleep in his own apartment. Sometimes, he’d come back from a deep cover assignment, and it would take days for him to settle into his skin again, into Jack Dalton’s skin, and not whoever he’d been that time.

 

No one knew the real Jack. Sometimes even Jack wondered if he knew the real Jack. The facade was always there, even when he was “himself”.  He was always Jack Dalton, hired muscle, carefree guy, borderline buffoon, action movie fan,  and never the secret Jack Dalton who had doubts and insecurities and sometimes wished people saw that he was more than a “loud-mouthed knuckle-dragger”. It hurt when Matty called him stupid because she seemed to believe it, and he wasn’t, not really. Jack wasn’t Mac, but he was smart in his own way. No one could assess an enemy threat like Jack could, and that had to count for something. Except, it seemed, it didn’t.

 

Jack always wore his heart on his sleeve  as far as anyone could tell, but it was really walled up behind walls so thick no one could penetrate them. He’d tried to get close to someone,  multiple someones , tried to let them in, but it never worked. He loved Diane, stayed with her for years, but could never tell her who he really was. He’d fancied himself in love with Sarah, thought she really knew him, thought he really knew her, pictured a life together with her on that lake in Italy, but they were only fooling themselves. They were spies, first, foremost, and always, and that was all they knew, about life, about themselves, about each other.

 

There was one exception, one person who knew the real Jack Dalton, knew him better than Jack himself: Angus MacGyver. From a rocky start in the sandbox, they’d grown to friends, to brothers, to lovers. They’d shared highs and lows, triumphs and heartbreaks, near death experiences and affirmations of life. They’ d shared beers, secrets, and dreams. They’ d shared fantasies. They’d seen each other at their best and their worst and everything in between—for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do them part,  if not on paper, then in practice . Some days, Jack though t even death couldn’t tear them apart. Mac—Angus, for that was who he was, underneath everything, underneath  _his_ mask of supergenius improvisor extraordinaire—grounded Jack, anchored him, kept him sane. Reminded him of just who Jack Dalton was on those all too rare times when he was free to be himself.

 

Like now. Jack had just come back from a month-long undercover mission as John Prince, a mercenary for hire that made Duke Jacoby look like a model citizen, a man so cold-blooded he could give Murdoc a run for his money. Jack had played bodyguard to a corrupt Middle Eastern businessman who had more enemies than he could count. Protecting him, Jack had beaten, maimed, tortured, and killed anyone who so much as looked at the man funny. Jack had been so deep he almost opened fire on the Phoenix tac team that came to take the man down. It was only when the leader had held up his sat phone and Jack heard Mac’s voice calling his name that he came back to himself enough to turn the gun on his enemies, not his friends.

 

Now, hours later, Jack stood in a scalding shower, trying to scour John Prince away. He’d been in there almost an hour, his skin red from hot water and scrubbing, and he couldn’t get clean.

 

A hand reached in and turned the water off. “Jack, enough,” a soft voice said. “Come to bed.”

 

Jack closed his eyes, letting the voice was h over him. It was soothing,  smooth like chocolate or honey , but more so. Jack felt all the evil he hadn’t been able to wash off sloughing off like shed skin at the sound of that voice. “Come here,  Jack ” the voice said. “Let me dry you.”

 

Jack opened his eyes to see the hand that had turned off the water there holding a soft, fluffy towel open for him to step into. Jack did, closing his eyes again as the towel wrapped around him, and two warm, strong, familiar arms enveloped him, spreading warmth over him, penetrating the cold that he felt to his bones. Jack breathed deep, taking in the smell of citrus and musk, more calming than chamomile or lavender. Slowly, Jack came back to himself.

 

Then, the towel was gone, and the hand was taking his, leading him to a soft, inviting bed—his bed. No,  _their_ bed. The hand gently pushed Jack until he was lying on his back on the bed, naked and exposed. A day ago, Jack would never have let himself be so vulnerable, but he was safe now, he was home.

 

“That’s it, Jack,” the voice said, and now Jack recognized it. It was Mac’s voice—no, Angus’--Angus’ hands touching him, caressing him, grounding him, Angus’ body covering his. Jack groaned at the feeling of skin-on-skin, everything laid bare, no walls, no secrets between them. “I got you, Jack.”

 

Jack closed his eyes and reveled in all the sensations caused by Angus’ body rocking slowly against him, Angus’ voice chanting his name, Angus’ lips pressing against his over and over and over again, grounding him, tethering him to the hear and now, not his memories of the past month. Jack opened his eyes and peered into Angus’ blue ones, really seeing them for the first time since his return, then getting lost in them, drowning in them, sinking deeper and deeper, then flying higher and higher as sensation coursed through him like electricity. Jack’s eyes started to slip closed again, but Angus stopped him with a hand on his chin. “Look at me, Jack.”

 

Jack did, taking in the familiar face framed with blond hair smiling lovingly down at him. Angus rocked harder, faster, sending pleasure shooting through Jack like bolts of lightning, letting him feel alive for the first time in weeks. Heat coiled deep in Jack’s belly,  building until he exploded, finally letting himself go, finally letting himself be—be Jack Dalton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually, I'm a firm believer that two close friends who get together are going to stick with the names they know--that is, in a relationship, Jack's going to continue to call Mac Mac and not Angus--I don't really buy into this public/private separation. It worked for this story, though.


	11. T.E.A.M./The Baseball Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more game, and the championship belongs to the Shrimps.
> 
> Song: T.E.A.M./The Baseball Game  
> Artist: You're a Good Man Charlie Brown  
> Pairing: Steve/Danny friendship  
> Rating: G

“Okay, kids, you got this.” Steve clapped the kids on either side of him on the back as he addressed the latest incarnation of the Honolulu Shrimps. “All we have to do is win this game, and the championship is ours. Now, go out and win this!”

 

“And remember,” Danny broke in, “it’s not about winning.” He glared at Steve, daring the SEAL to contradict him. “It’s about going out there and giving it your best shot, win or lose. That’s all that matters.”

 

Steve nodded in agreement. “Right. But winning’s better.”

 

“Steve!” Danny said, starting to get angry. “How many times do I have to tell you this game’s not about winning!”

 

“Then, what’s it about?” Steve asked.

 

“It’s about teamwork, sportsmanship, feeling good about yourself because you gave it your best shot.”

 

“Winning makes you feel good about yourself,” Steve pointed out.

 

Danny opened his mouth to retort, but Charlie broke in. “Danno, Uncle Steve, you have this argument all the time, and you never settle anything. Can we just play?”

 

“Good idea.” Danny put his fist into the center of the circle, and Steve and all the kids followed suit. They broke with a cheer and headed for the field.

 

The game was as thrilling as the World Series to the kids and parents playing and watching. The score went back and forth, first one team ahead, then the other. Steve egged the kids on, cheering every hit, every catch, every strike the Shrimps pitched and every out they made. Danny bucked up the kids who felt down for missing a catch or striking out or not being fast enough to get the ball before the runner made base. They men would never admit it, but they made a good team, their styles complementing each other. That’s what had gotten the Shrimps this far.

 

It came down to the last out in the 9th inning. The Shrimps were up, the bases were loaded, and it was Charlie’s turn to bat. Steve crouched down to the boy’s level. “Okay, Charlie, it’s up to you. You can do it. This guy’s a terrible pitcher. Just bear down. All you have to do is hit the ball and let Terry get home.” Steve slapped the boy on the back. “Go get ‘em, Charlie.”

 

“Wait a minute.” Danny came up to Charlie to take his turn at a pep talk. “Don’t listen to Uncle Steve. It doesn’t matter what you do. Just give it your best shot, Squirrel. Win or lose, we’re proud of you. Just remember that.”

 

Charlie nodded, solemnly. “Okay, Danno.” Resolutely, Charlie took his place at the plate, shouldering his bat and waiting for the pitch.

 

“Bear down!” Steve shouted.

 

“Give it your best shot!” Danny yelled.

 

Charlie’s face was scrunched up in concentration, just a tip of pink tongue poking out from between his lips. He was so focused the pitch caught him by surprise, and he missed his swing.

 

“Strike one!” the umpire called.

 

“That’s okay, Charlie! Two more strikes!” Danny yelled. “Plenty of chances!”

 

“That’s right, Slugger,” Steve chimed in. “We’re behind you!”

 

Charlie nodded and shouldered his bat again, determined not to miss the ball this time. The ball headed towards him, and he swung with all his might.

 

“Strike two!” the umpire called.

 

“Okay, Charlie,” Steve called. “Last shot! Just hit the ball, and we win!”

 

“Steve!” Danny chided, hitting his partner on the arm, “He’s just a kid. Don’t put so much pressure on him.” He called to Charlie. “Just remember, win or lose, it doesn’t matter. Just put your heart into it.”

 

Charlie gave another nod of acknowledgment and shouldered his bat one last time. Steve and Danny held their breath. The pitcher loosed the ball, and it hurtled towards Charlie. Time slowed down, each second ticking by like an hour as the ball came closer and closer. Charlie bore down as instructed and put all his weight behind the swing.

 

“Strike three!” the umpire called.

 

“Damn, so close,” Steve swore.

 

“Don’t let the kids hear you say that,” Danny warned. “They’re going to be upset enough as it is.”

 

Sure enough, the team came out from behind the bench and came over to Steve and Danny, downhearted.

 

“What do you say to the other team?” Danny prompted.

 

“Good job,” the kids said with varying levels of enthusiasm. Danny figured that was the best he was going to get.

 

“You did great out there,” Danny praised. “All of you played your hearts out. I’m proud of you.”

 

“But we lost,” one of the kids said, mournfully.

 

“That doesn’t matter, right, Steve?” Danny prompted, glaring at his partner.

 

“Right,” Steve said. “You did your best. That’s what matters.”

 

“Right,” Danny said. “Okay, kids, get your things, and we’ll meet at the ice cream shop. Ice cream’s on me.”

 

“Why?” a kid wanted to know. “We don’t deserve it.”

 

“Of course you do,” Danny said. “No matter what happens in the game, you always deserve it. Now, go on, or all the ice cream will melt.”

 

The kids drifted off, leaving Charlie standing dejectedly in front of Danny and Steve.

 

“What’s wrong, Squirrel?” Danny asked.

 

“It’s all my fault,” Charlie said. “It’s because of me we lost.”

 

Danny looked surprised. “Of course it’s not. What makes you think that?”

 

“That’s what Uncle Steve said. He said it was all up to me.”

 

Steve paled. He hadn’t realized his words had affected the boy like that. “Aw, buddy, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. Anybody could have done the same thing. You were just unlucky enough to be the one at bat, that’s all. It probably would have turned out the same way no matter who was at bat. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

 

Charlie looked hopeful. “You really mean that, Uncle Steve?”

 

“Of course I do,” Steve said. “Now, come on, buddy, high five. You did good.”

 

Charlie slapped Steve’s hand, looking much more cheerful. Danny bent down to give the boy a huge hug. “I’m so proud of you, Squirrel. Bigger men than you would have broken under the pressure, but you gave it your best shot. That’s all anybody could ask.” Danny straightened. “Now, I believe I said something about ice cream. What do you say? You ready for some?”

 

Charlie nodded, and Danny scooped him up in his arms, walking off towards the car.

 

Steve stayed behind, watching them leave.

 

“Come on, you big goof, there’s ice cream for you, too,” Danny called over his shoulder.

 

Smiling, Steve went after them. There was always next year.


	12. What Is This Feeling?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Jack got off to a rocky start, but after a while, things change between them.
> 
> Song: What Is This Feeling?  
> Artist: Wicked  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: Mac/Jack pre-slash  
> Episode: s2e12 Mac + Jack  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would work equally well for either Mac/Jack or Steve/Danny, but Mac/Jack has been done less, so I decided to go with that. I chose the letter format because that's how the song starts.
> 
> This is intended as pre-slash, though it's not any more so than the show, so you can read it as bromance. I wanted to work the slash in, but it just didn't happen.

Dear Mom and Dad,

 

You’ll never believe what happened today! We have a new EOD tech, and the first thing he did was mess with my rifle. My rifle! No one touches Jack Dalton’s rifle. He said it was broken, but I checked it over myself—it was perfectly fine. Worse, they assigned me as his overwatch. Can you believe it? Sixty-four days left, and I’m assigned to babysit some bratty kid. You should see this guy—he doesn’t look old enough to be out of high school, but they say he’s some kind of wonder kid. Apparently, he was with Pena when he got blown up by The Ghost. I feel sorry for the kid for having his mentor blown up, but I don’t see why they have to saddle me with him. And his name—Angus MacGyver. Who gives their kid a silly hamburger name like that? These next two months are going to be torture—with my luck, the kid’ll blow himself up, and they’ll blame me. Well, I’ll just have to do the best I can and hope this snot-nosed kid won’t be the death of me. Can’t wait to see you.

 

Love,

Jack.

 

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Dear Bozer,

 

Met my new overwatch today—Jack Dalton. You wouldn’t believe this guy! He’s the embodiment of every bad stereotype of an army guy—all muscles, no brain. No wonder none of the techs he’s been assigned have stuck around. He went after me for messing with his rifle. I was doing him a favor—it was going to blow up in his face the next time he fired it. He insisted he checked it himself, and it was fine, but it wasn’t. Ungrateful brute decides he’s going to act like the caveman he is and beat me to a bloody pulp, but I showed him—I pinned him first. Boy, that made me feel good. I may be skinny, but I can hold my own against even big brutes like him. Now, I’m saddled with him for the foreseeable future. He says he’s going home in 64 days—I can’t wait. Can’t come soon enough for me. I just hope I can keep his sorry ass from getting blown up before then. I wish Pena was still alive—he respected me and didn’t treat me like a dumb kid. This bunch of meatheads doesn’t appreciate anybody who can’t shoot a gun. Save me from this idiocy!

 

Love,

Mac

 

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Dear Mom and Dad,

 

The kid’s good, I gotta give him that, but man, is he slow. I could have sworn I was going to die from boredom while waiting for him to disarm the bomb on our jeep. It took him forever! I swear, I thought I was going to spend the next 46 days just waiting for him to take care of that one bomb. Then, get this, he disarms it with a stick of chewing gum! Well, not really the stick, but the wrapper. I don’t know what he did with it, but it worked. He has earned his reputation. Doesn’t make him any less annoying, though. Still can’t wait to get home. Thank god it’s only 46 more days!

 

Love,

Jack.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Dear Bozer,

 

Jack cannot keep his trap shut! Someone planted a bomb on our jeep, and I was trying to disarm it, but I couldn’t concentrate. Jack just kept going on and on, nagging me about how long it was taking. It’d go a lot faster if he would just shut up and let me do my job. I can see why nobody wants to put up with him. He is the most annoying man I have ever met. I think I impressed him, though. I used a gum wrapper to disarm the bomb. I don’t think he’d ever seen that before. That’s because he doesn’t know me, and probably never will. I doubt these next 46 days are going to be enough for me to convince him I’m more than just a stupid kid, not an opinionated brute like that. I’d have to hit him over the head to get him to change his mind. No, wait, I tried that, and it didn’t work. Guess I’ll just have to live with it. Thank god it’s only 46 more days!

 

Love,

Mac

 

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Dear Mom and Dad,

 

Had to save Carl Jr’s sorry ass—sorry, Ma, sorry butt--today. Not only is he the world’s slowest EOD tech, he can’t obey orders, either. I’ll be lucky if I don’t spend the next 32 days in the stockade because of him. We spent the whole day scouring this little town without finding anything, but he insists there’s something there, and he just needs one more hour. Well, screw that—sorry, Ma. I told the commander we’d head back, and what does the little brat do? He goes running off on his own! Four guys had him cornered when I found him. They were about to blow him to bits more surely than that bomb he was crouched over. Never say ol’ Jack Dalton’s not a crack shot—took all four of them out with two bullets, thank you very much. I’m mad as hell—sorry, Ma, mad as heck—at him for making me risk everything to save his butt, but I made a promise to have his back, and I’m not going back on my word, no matter what happens.

 

Love,

Jack

 

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Dear Bozer,

 

I may have misjudged Jack. He saved my ass today, and disobeyed orders to do it. We were clearing a town, and I just knew there was a bomb there, but Jack wouldn’t let me look for it any more. I disobeyed, and I found the bomb, but I also found four thugs who were ready to blow me to bits. Next thing I know, they’re all dead on the ground, and Jack’s poised above me holding a smoking rifle in a second story window. He took them all out with two bullets! He may have rocks for brains, but he’s loyal. He could have just left me, but he didn’t. He risked his own life and risked getting written up to save me. I owe him one. Maybe someday I’ll apologize to him. Maybe.

 

Love,

Mac.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Dear Mom and Dad,

 

Mac saved my life today. We were clearing a building, and like the bumbling fool I am, I stepped right on a bomb. I was sure it was the end. Fourteen days left, and I was going to bite it by a bomb. At least I’d go out with a bang, if you know what I mean. I yelled at Mac to get clear, but the idiot comes in anyway to try and disarm it. He’s only got a minute and a half, and I know I’ve told you he’s the world’s slowest EOD tech, but what do you know? He did it! So, when you see me walk off the plane in 14 days, you have that skinny kid with the hamburger name to thank.

 

Love,

Jack.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Dear Bozer,

 

Had to save Jack’s life today. Idiot stepped on a bomb while we were clearing the building, never mind that I must have told him a hundred times to watch his step. He was all ready to sacrifice himself like the noble soldier he is, but I wasn’t going to let him give up his life to save mine. That’s not how it works. We have each other’s backs. He didn’t leave me behind a few weeks ago, and I wasn’t going to leave him behind today. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure I could do it, but I managed, and you should have seen the look on his face. I think maybe he finally respects me. Too bad he’s going home in 14 days. Never thought I’d say this, but I think I’ll miss him.

 

Love,

Mac

 

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Dear Mom and Dad,

 

You’ve probably noticed by now I wasn’t on that plane. You won’t believe it, but I went and signed up for another tour. I couldn’t help it. I was sitting on the plane, just a 15 hour flight between me and home, and I kept thinking about that kid left there in the sandbox without me to watch over him. He wouldn’t last two days. Oh, sure, they’d assign someone else to him, but they wouldn’t know Mac like I do, wouldn’t know to trust his gut, wouldn’t know that no matter how slow he his, he’ll get the job done. I just couldn’t walk away. I hope you understand—I just couldn’t leave him there. Don’t tell him, but I’m kind of fond of the little guy. I still love and miss you lots, and I’ll think about you every day.

 

Love,

Jack

 

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Dear Bozer,

 

You’ll never believe it, but Jack came back! I know I told you he was shipping out today. Well, I’m sitting in the jeep, waiting for my new overwatch so we can ship out, and who appears at the window but Jack? He said he signed up for another tour on the condition that he be partnered with me. I never would have thought he’d have it in him. I know he’s loyal to a fault, but I’ll be the first to admit I’ve done nothing but make his life difficult these last two months. If I were him, I wouldn’t come back for me. He said he did it for his country, that he thought there were big things in store for me, but I know the truth. I think he may actually like me, and, I have to admit, I’m getting kind of fond of him. I know you like your movie references, Boze, so I’ll just say this may be the start of a beautiful friendship.

 

Love,

Mac


	13. Weeping Willow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve hasn't heard from Catherine in over a year. Maybe he will now that he's dying.
> 
> Song: Weeping Willow  
> Artist: The Kingston Trio  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: McDanno established, past Steve McGarrett/Catherine Rollins  
> Rating: T  
> Warning: Major Character Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys. You know me--I avoid death fics like the plague, but I couldn't see how else to write this. I couldn't bear to make one of our boys leave the other, so I fell back on Steve/Catherine. I did slip in a little McDanno, so at least there's a small ray of sunshine.

“Do you think she’ll come, Danny?” Steve asked his husband, anxiously. He fell silent and breathed deep, filling his lungs with welcome oxygen from the nasal canula he was never without these days. He laid his head back on the pillow of the hard hospital bed, closing his eyes. He was tired, so tired. Everything took so much effort these days. Steve really just wanted to close his eyes and never wake up again, but he still had things left unfinished.

 

Danny brushed back the remaining wisps of Steve’s hair. “I don’t know, Steve. I know you want to see her, but there’s not much time left.” The radiation sickness had progressed so fast, faster than anyone expected. Danny and Steve had finally admitted what had been between them for years and wasted no time in moving in together and getting married, determined to spend as much time together as possible. That had turned out to be less than two years. Once the cancer had been diagnosed, Steve had slipped downhill in a matter of months. It broke Danny’s heart to see the man he loved wasting away, but he was grateful it wasn’t any more prolonged.

 

Now, Steve was just holding on to tie up loose ends. “Her” could mean one of two people—Catherine or Doris. Doris had already come by, slipping in in the middle of the night and staying under 15 minutes, just long enough to say what needed to be said before slipping out as quietly as she’d come. It hardly helped—Steve got no sense of closure from it, just the same feeling of abandonment he’d always had. Danny felt it would have been better if Doris had never come at all.

 

That just left Catherine. Catherine, the woman Steve once thought he’d spend the rest of his life with, before he admitted what he felt for Danny, before he found the real love of his life. Steve had pictured a future with her, saw them growing old together, but she’d been right when she’d said the job would always come first with them, well, for her at least. Steve would never have lied to Catherine, never have left her to go under deep cover. If it had come down to between Catherine and the job, he would have chosen her, no questions. At least he’d like to think so, though, these days, he had his doubts, unlike with Danny—Danny he had no doubts about at all. It would be Danny if Steve had to choose, it would always be Danny.

 

Catherine, on the other hand, had chosen the job over him not once, but twice, first in Afghanistan, then when she went undercover for the CIA. He should have listened to Danny, listened to his heart, but Steve had been so afraid to lose the only thing close to a stable relationship he’d ever had. He knew now that relationship was anything but stable, but at the time he had nothing to compare it to.

 

And that didn’t mean he didn’t want to see her before he died. He did. Even though he knew what they’d once had was dead and gone if it even existed in the first place, even though he had Danny now, Danny who hadn’t left his side in months, who’d come for him time and time again, first North Korea, then Afghanistan, then every other time Steve had needed him, he still considered her a friend.

 

Steve was beginning to doubt Catherine felt the same. He hadn’t heard from Catherine in over a year, not since that disastrous expedition with Jerry. He’d tried to contact her a couple of times, but mostly he respected the secrecy entailed by her job. Every once in a while he’d hear a whisper through the grapevine, but it was never anything more than an indication she was alive and well. Steve had contacted her once he found out he was dying, that he had mere months left, hoping that would be enough for her to return.

 

It seemed that hope was futile. Steve had contacted Catherine over two weeks ago and hadn’t heard anything. He asked Danny eagerly every day if he’d heard anything, but the answer was always no. Steve knew he was probably hurting Danny with his insistence on seeing Catherine, but he also knew Danny understood. Danny had never begrudged Steve’s lingering feelings for Catherine, never felt like he was a replacement for her, but Steve knew that didn’t make it any easier.

 

“I can’t wait much longer,” Steve mumbled, weakly.

 

Danny squeezed Steve’s skeletal hand with its almost transparent skin. Danny could see every vein standing out in vivid contrast with Steve’s pale skin. “I know, babe,” Danny said.

 

Tears started leaking from Steve’s eyes, tears Steve didn’t want to shed because he just didn’t have the energy crying required. “I really thought Catherine would come,” he said. “I thought when she heard. . .”

 

Another squeeze. “I know, babe,” Danny said again.

 

“I thought she was still a friend,” Steve continued. “I thought we at least had that, but she hasn’t written, hasn’t called, hasn’t acknowledged me at all. I’m starting to wonder if I ever meant anything to her.”

 

Danny’s heart broke for Steve. He knew how important Catherine was to Steve; no matter how much Steve loved Danny—and that was a lot, of that Danny had no doubt—there would always be a little part of him still in love with Catherine, a little part of him that wanted to see her one last time. Unfortunately, it was looking more and more like he wouldn’t get his wish.

 

Steve waited five more days, growing weaker and weaker. Danny never left his side, sleeping on a cot in Steve’s room, eating his meals with Steve, showering in Steve’s bathroom. There was no sign of Catherine.

 

“She’s not coming, is she?” Steve asked on the fifth day.

 

“I don’t think so, babe,” Danny said, grasping Steve’s hand tightly, feeling how frail it was under his hand, feeling like the slightest pressure would shatter it into a million pieces, rather like Danny’s heart.

 

Steve nodded, closing his eyes. His hand went lax in Danny’s grip, and his labored breathing evened out. Sometime during the night, Steve passed away.

 

Danny spent three days crying before he could bear to type an e-mail to Catherine, or at least the cover address they contacted her through. “I regret to inform you. . .” Danny began and ended “I hope you can make the ceremony”. He did hope so, for Steve’s sake.

 

Catherine never came.


	14. Turn the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny reflects on how far he's come since coming to Hawaii.
> 
> Song: Turn the Tide  
> Artist: Bare Necessities  
> Fandom:. Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: McDanno Established  
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn the Tide is a beautiful, modern English Country Dance tune. Tides made me think of beaches, which led to H50, which led to Danny's feelings on the matter. Turn the Tide is not only literal in this story, but also indicative of Danny's feelings towards Hawaii--and Steve.

Danny stretched his legs out in front of him, wiggling his bare toes in the wet sand. He watched the incoming tide wash over his feet, lapping a little farther up each time before it retreated. The Hawaiian sky was awash in flame, another gorgeous sunset. The islands were famous for them, after all.

Danny leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, relaxed and happy. He could get used to this--had gotten used to it, in fact. He could lie here now, perfectly content, but just a few years ago he would have been bitching loudly about sand in inappropriate places. Just a few years ago, he would have been wearing a dress shirt and tie, too; that Danny Williams wouldn't have been caught dead in the board shorts and t-shirt he was wearing now. Thank goodness, that Danny Williams was long gone.

Danny was starting to drift off when he was jolted away by drops of water landing on him, as if a large dog was shaking himself dry. Or an oversized SuperSeal. Or both. “Steven, get away from me, you goof, and take the dog with you!” Danny shouted, but there was no heat behind his words.

Steve just grinned, shaking his head more vigorously and spattering Danny even further. Eddie followed suit.

Danny drew his arm across his eyes to wipe away the salt water. “I hate you both. I hate you very much.”

Steve leaned down to kiss his husband. “Love you, too, Danno.”

“Woof!” Eddie chimed in.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny grumbled good-naturedly. He gestured to the chair next to him. “Have a seat. You have to get your own beer, though. I'm not planning on moving any time soon.”

Steve dropped down in the indicated seat. He twined his hand with Danny's where it lay on the chair arm between them. “What are you up to? I figured you'd be up at the house cooking dinner.”

“Dinner can wait,” Danny said. “It's just pasta. It won't take long.”. He gestured at the darkening sky. “I was just enjoying the sunset.”

“Tide's coming in,” Steve observed. “You'll get wet.”

The water was now up to Danny's ankles. He splashed his feet. “Who cares? It's just water.”

Steve laughed.

“What's so funny?” Danny demanded.

“I remember when you would have cared,” Steve said. “You used to hate the water. Who'da thought all those years ago straight-laced, uptight, ocean-hating Danny Williams would be stretched out on the beach, toes in the sand, splashing his feet in the water? I never would have guessed. You were so determined to hate Hawaii back then.”

“I was determined to hate a lot of  things back then,” Danny said. He gestured at Steve with their joined hands. “You,for example. You dragged me into your mess and got me shot the very first day. I was convinced you were deliberatly trying to ruin my life.”

Steve kissed Danny's knuckles. “And now you're married to me.”

“And now I'm married to you,” Danny confirmed. He looked down at the ring on his left hand and the matching one on Steves.  Danny wondered when that had happened, when Steve had gone from sworn enemy to love of his life. He supposed it was sometime between Steve giving him the tickets to swim with the dolphins and him giving Steve half his liver. That was when Danny had realized he was in love with Steve, watching him bleed out in the plane and knowing he'd give a lot more than half his liver to save Steve. It had to have happened sometime before that, though. It didn't matter. What mattered was that he was here now, on this beach with his husband and his dog, enjoying the tropical sunset as the waves lapped at his feet. Speaking of which, they were up to the chair legs. Probably time to go in. Danny just wasn't ready yet.

Steve seemed to read Danny's mind. He released Danny's hand and stood up. “I'm going to go on up and shower. Coming?”

“In a minute,” Danny said.

  
Steve dropped a kiss on Danny's head and whistled for Eddie. “Okay. See you in a few.”

Danny lingered until the sun fully dipped below the horizon, then picked up both chairs, moving them clear of the high water mark. He shivered lightly. The wind was picking up, and it was getting cool. It would be nice to get back to the house.

  
Danny made his way into the kitchen and put the pasta water on to boil. He shook his head at the trail of sand and wet pawprints. Those two would never learn, he thought, fondly. He wiped up the mess, then went about preparing garlic bread and a salad.

Danny was caught up in his food prep when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him, and a pair of soft lips pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Smells fantastic,” Steve said.

“It'll be ready in just a minute,” Danny said. “Make yourself useful and set the table.”

Steve did as he was told while Danny drained the pasta and put the sauce on--his nonna's sauce, of course. No stuff from a jar for him. Danny dished up two plates and put one in front of Steve before sitting down across from him.

It felt so right, Danny thought, here with Steve, in this house, on this island. Danny had come so far from the angry, lonely man who had landed this “pineapple-infested hellhole” so long ago. It was no longer foreign place he was forced to endure for the sake of his daughter. Now, it was home.


	15. Kindergarten Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie learns an important lesson. Danny reflects on how it applies to his life.
> 
> Song: Kindergarten Wall  
> Artist: John McCutcheon  
> Fandom:. Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: Faint implied McDanno  
> Rating: T

"Hey, squirrel,” Danny said, bending down and wrapping Charlie in a huge hug as the boy came running out of school and into his father's arms. “How was school?”

“It was great!” the little boy said, excitedly. “We learned the best poem!”

“Oh, yeah?” Danny said. “Why don't you recite it for me?”

“Okay,” Charlie said. “It goes like this:”

_Of all you learn here, remember this the best,_   
_Don't hurt each other and clean up your mess._   
_Take a nap everyday, wash before you eat,_   
_Hold hands, stick together, look before you cross the street._   
_Remember the seed in the little paper cup,_   
_First the root goes down, and then the plant grows up._

“That's good advice,” Danny said. “We should all follow that.”

“Do you, Danno?” Charlie asked.

“Weeeelllll,” Danny said, drawing the word out as he tried to think of what to say. “Sometimes. . .”

_Don't hurt each other_

“Steven, don't!”. Danny grabbed Steve's arm before he could throw the punch he was aiming.

Steve struggled against Danny's grip, trying to get at the other bar patron. “Let go, Danny,” he snarled.

Danny held firm. “No, I won't. I'm not going to let you deck some guy just because he shot off his mouth.”

“He insulted you, Danny!” Steve said.

Danny physically inserted himself between Steve and the other guy who was making “bring it on” gestures to Steve. “So, what?” Danny said. “Let him. It's just words.”

“I knew you were a coward as well as a faggot,” the guy sneered.

Danny let go of Steve and decked the other guy.

_Clean up your mess_

Steve surveyed the disaster area that used to be his kitchen. “This place is a mess, Danny. What'd you do? Use every pan in the house?”

Danny added the last of the plates to the precarious pile in the sink. “I was cooking for a dozen people, Steven!” he said. “It takes a lot of prep!”

“Looks like you were cooking for a hundred,” Steve observed. He tentatively approached the sink and reached in to see if he could find a discloth. The pile swayed ominously. “This is going to take hours to clean up.”

Danny stayed Steve's hand. “Leave it. It'll still be there in the morning.”

“I can't,” Steve said. “I wasn't trained that way.”

“I'm sorry if it offends your delicate Army sensibilities,” Danny said, trying to steer Steve towards the kitchen door. “I promise, the world won't end if you leave the dishes overnight.”

Steve resisted. “Yes, it will,” he insisted. “And it was the Navy, Danny!”

Danny stopped trying to shove Steve out of the kitchen and sighed. “Okay, fine, I'll clean it up. Just remember you have only yourself to blame when I'm too tired to do anything else.”

“I'll remember,” Steve promised. “Thank you, Danny.”

“You're welcome.”

_Take a nap every day_

Danny blinked at his computer screen. The words were running together, and he was no longer sure what he was trying to type. He jumped when Steve rapped on his door.

“How's the report coming?” Steve asked.

“I'm not sure,” Danny said, still struggling to make sense of what was in front of him. “I think I typed the same paragraph three times.” He squinted at something. “I'm not sure that's even a sentence.”

Steve crossed the room and stood in front of Danny's desk. “Danny, when was the last time you slept?”

Danny's face scrunched up as he tried to remember. “I dunno. Last night? Night before?”

Steve sighed. “Danny, you need to get some sleep.”

“Do you think I haven't tried?” Danny said. “My insomnia's been acting up. I get maybe one, two hours of sleep, then I'm wide awake.”

“Danny, go home and take a nap,” Steve ordered.

“I will,” Danny promised. “As soon as I finish this report.”

“No,” Steve said, “now.” He walked around the desk, made sure Danny's document was saved, and shut down the computer.

“Hey, I was working on that!” Danny protested.

“It'll wait,” Steve said. “Now, come on, I'm driving you home.”

Danny sighed. “Fine, but I can nap here on the sofa.”

“You can nap in your bed,” Steve said, firmly. “No arguments. I'm pulling rank.”

“Have it your way,” Danny grumbled. He reluctantly got up and followed Steve out of the office.

“Good,” Steve said. “You'll thank me in the morning.”

_Wash before you eat_

“Oooh, seafood meatballs. My favorite.” Steve reached for one of the tempting tidbits as he walked by the stove, but Danny grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“You are not touching my food until you wash your hands,” Danny said. He peered more closely at Steve's hand. “Is that blood?”

“Yeah, but it's not mine,” Steve said.

“I don't care!” Danny practically shouted. “I take one day off, one, and you come home all bloody! What did you do, you Neanderthal?”

“Relax, Danny,” Steve said. “One of the perps just had an unfortunate encounter with my fist.”

“Before or after you arrested him?”

Steve hemmed and hawed before answering. Danny just glared at him until Steve spoke. “It may have been while I was interrogating him.”

Danny closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off an impending, Steve-induced headache. “How many times have I told you you can't go punching our suspects?”

“He wasn't cooperating!” Steve defended himself.

“I don't care, Steven!” Danny yelled. “There are rules!” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Never mind. Just go wash up. Make sure you get all the blood.”

“Then can I have a meatball?” Steve asked, hopefully.

Danny sighed, resigned. “Then you can have a meatball.”

_Hold hands_

“Charlie, wait!” Danny called as the boy broke away from Danny and ran towards the penguins.

Charlie paused, waiting for his father and Steve to catch up. The two men reached the boy, and Danny grabbed his hand. “What did I tell you, Charlie?”

“Don't run off,” Charlie said.

“And?” Danny prompted.

“Always hold your or Uncle Steve's hand,” Charlie recited, dutifully.

“That's right,” Danny confirmed. “Now, if you're a good boy and stay with us, we can go see the penguins.” Danny started towards the penguins, but Charlie hung back, clearly waiting for something. “What is it, Charlie? I thought you wanted to see the penguins.”

Charlie looked up at Danny with wide, blue eyes. “Aren't you going to hold Uncle Steve's hand?”

Danny was completely taken aback. “What?”

“Yeah, Danno, aren't you going to hold my hand?” Steve echoed with a grin.

“I don't think. . .” Danny started.

“You said we should always hold hands so we don't lose each other,” Charlie said.

“Charlie, Uncle Steve and I are adults,” Danny explained. “We don't have to.”

“Why not?” Charlie asked. “You could still get lost.”

“He has a point,” Steve said.

Danny sighed and took Steve's hand with his free one. “Happy now?” he asked.

Steve beamed. “Yes, Danno.”

“Yes, Danno,” Charlie said. “Now, we can go see the penguins.”

_Stick together_

“Wait here.” Steve motioned to Danny to stay put as he moved from the edge of the jungle towards the compound he and Danny were observing.

Danny grabbed his arm. “Just where do you think you're going?”

Steve shook off Danny's hand. “I'm just going to go check it out.”

“Are you crazy?!?” Danny hissed. “I can see four armed guards from here. Who knows how many more are inside?”

“I'll be careful,” Steve promised.

“You'll be dead!” Danny shot back.

Steve sighed. “Danny, you're being ridiculous. I'll be fine.”

“No, you won't!” Danny insisted. “Why can't you wait for backup like a normal person?”

Steve shot Danny a feral grin. “You are my backup. Now, are you coming or not?”

Danny closed his eyes and counted to ten then opened them. He drew his gun and fell into place behind Steve. “I'm coming.”

_Look before you cross the street_

“Steve, watch out!” Danny dashed into the street and tackled his partner, knocking him out of the way of the oncoming car. Brakes screeched, and the car stopped inches from the two men.

“Danny, let me up!” Steve said. “He's getting away!”

Danny heaved himself to his feet. “He's getting away?” the detective echoed, incredulously. “You almost got run over, and all you can say is he's getting away? Do you have no sense of self-preservation, Steven?”

Steve rolled over and sat on the asphalt. Danny held out his hand and pulled his partner to his feet. “Damn,” Steve cursed. “Now, we'll never find him.”

“We will,” Danny promised.

“We could have had him if you hadn't knocked me down,” Steve said.

“Really, Steven? I saved your life, and you blame me for letting the suspect get away?”

“Yes,” Steve said, as though it made all the sense in the world.

Danny couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You ran out into the middle of a busy street! Didn't your mother teach you to look before you crossed?”

“There wasn't time!” Steve said.

“There's always time for safety!” Danny insisted. “What am I going to do with you?”

“If I promise to look next time, will you let this go?” Steve asked.

Danny sighed. “Why do I even bother?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Danny pulled himself out of his musings and looked down at Charlie. “You know what, Charlie?” Danny said, “I think I'm going to try to do better.”

Charlie looked up at his father and beamed.

 


	16. With Anne on My Arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Jack get married.
> 
> Song: With Anne on My Arm  
> Artist: La Cage Aux Folles  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: MacDalton  
> Rating: G

 

The love theme from The Princess Bride began to play. In the back of the hall, Jack held his arm out to Mac. “Angus MacGyver, soon to be Angus MacGyver-Dalton, would you do the honor of accompanying me down the aisle?”

 

Mac beamed as he placed his arm in Jack’s. “It would be my honor, Jack Dalton, soon to be Jack MacGyver-Dalton.”

 

Arm in arm, they proceeded down the aisle to the front of the hall. They passed the rows of chairs holding their friends and family—Mac’s geek friends, Jack’s Delta Force buddies, a whole flock of assorted Dalton family members, even James MacGyver. In the front row, Riley, Bozer, Matty, and Leanna looked on, smiling at their friends. Riley and Leanna were openly crying, Mac was sure he saw a tear in Bozer’s eye, and even Matty’s eyes were suspiciously moist.

 

They reached the front and faced the officiant. “Dearly beloved,” he began, “we are gathered here today to witness the joining of Angus MacGyver and Jack Wyatt Dalton in holy matrimony. Is there anyone here who knows of any reason why these two should not be joined?”

 

“No!” Bozer shouted. “Marry ‘em, already!”

 

Jack and Mac smiled at each other. “You heard the man,” Jack told the officiant. “Marry us already.”

 

The man nodded. “Mac and Jack have elected to write their own vows. Jack, will you begin?”

 

Jack faced Mac and took both of Mac’s hands in his. “Angus MacGyver, we got off to a rough start in the sandbox, but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side. Walking down the aisle with you was the happiest moment of my life. I am honored that you have chosen to be my partner in life as well as at work. With you, I feel like I can take on the world. Would you be my lawfully wedded husband?”

 

Mac nodded, tears in his eyes. “Yes, Jack.”

 

The officiant nodded at him. “Mac, now you.”

 

“Jack Wyatt Dalton,” Mac began, “I may not have liked you at first, but I have never doubted you were an honorable man who would give his life for the ones he loved. I am thrilled that you have chosen me as one of those lucky enough to share your life, to walk down the road with you arm in arm. You’re the one that makes me believe in myself. Jack, will you be my husband?”

 

Jack sniffled. “Yes, Mac, I will.”

 

“Now, the rings,” the officiant said.

 

Riley reached into her pocket and withdrew the rings, passing them to Bozer who handed them to Jack. Jack placed the simple gold band with the three diagonal rows of diamonds on Mac’s left ring finger.

 

“Repeat after me,” the officiant said. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

 

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Jack repeated, dutifully.

 

The officiant turned to Mac. “Repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed.”

 

Mac took the matching ring and placed it on Jack’s finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

 

“I now declare you married,” the officiant said. “You may now kiss.”

 

Jack swept Mac into his arms, kissing him passionately. The hall fell away as they got lost in each other, savoring each other’s lips, drinking in each other, making the most of their first kiss as husbands.

 

The officiant cleared his throat, and the two men jumped apart, blushing. He motioned for the couple to face the crowd. Once they did, hand in hand, he presented them to their friends and family. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mr. MacGyver-Dalton.”

 

The crowd surged to their feet and burst into applause. Mac and Jack stood there beaming until the crowd settled. The theme from Star Wars started, and Jack once again offered his arm to Mac who once again took it. They marched up the aisle arm and arm, feeling invincible with the other by their side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a toss up between Princess Bride and Star Wars. I used Star Wars before, so I decided on Princess Bride, but I couldn't resist throwing in Star Wars as the recessional.


	17. Where Do We Go from Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phoenix is in shambles. Now what?
> 
> Song: Where Do We Go from Here?  
> Artist: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Once More with Feeling  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about making this another (offscreen) deathfic, but finally figured out how to do it without it--two deathfics in one collection was two more than I wanted to write. It's not happy, though.

The team—what was left of it—stared at the ruins of the Phoenix building, watching the rescue crews pick through the rubble in the cold light of dawn, searching for survivors. Bozer, Riley, Leanna, and Matty looked on helplessly, wishing there was something they could do, wishing their missing members would miraculously spring from what was once the Phoenix headquarters, alive and well and in one piece.

 

The ruins looked so much worse today than they had in the immediate aftermath, the gray of the debris blending in with the gray of the early morning sky. It was all that was left of one of the greatest intelligence agencies in the country, so much worse than when the Organization had exposed DXS, and it had risen again as Phoenix.

 

Once again, the Organization was to blame. Somehow, they’d managed to plant five bombs in various parts of the building. Four—the four on the upper levels—had been discovered in time. The fifth and largest hidden in one of the deepest sublevels hadn’t been discovered until almost too late. People had already been herded into a bomb shelter on that level, and not all of them had gotten out in time. Twenty people were still trapped in the shelter, blocked in by rubble, alive, but unable to escape. It was small comfort that at least they knew the room would withstand a blast—it was practically the only room in the building still intact.

 

There were other casualties who hadn’t made it out before the building imploded. There were at least 10 techs in the lowest levels who were missing and presumed dead, and over two dozen Phoenix employees seriously injured. A small price to pay, maybe, but still too high.

 

And then there were Mac and Jack. Mac and Jack, the golden boys of Phoenix, their most prized assets. Mac and Jack who had braved the bowels of the building to try and disarm the bomb before it exploded. Mac and Jack who hadn’t succeeded. The team knew they’d gotten away from ground zero—a frantic transmission from Jack just before the blast had taken out comms had confirmed that—but they hadn’t made it out. Until their bodies were found, there was still hope that they were alive, but the team knew it was likely in vain.

 

It hadn’t been a total loss. Phoenix had managed to take out the top 10 members of the Organization, breaking the terrorist group and scattering the remaining members. That had not been without cost, either. For over 20 bodies and as many arrests of Organization members, five Phoenix members had been killed and 12 injured, seven seriously who were currently hanging onto life by a thread, whether they would live or die still uncertain.

 

As the team watched, remnants appeared from the rubble—pieces of lab equipment, bent and broken desks, smashed computer equipment. Tangible losses, all valuable, but not as valuable as the life lost. Not as valuable as Mac and Jack.

 

Suddenly, the radio Matty was holding crackled to life. “We have life!” came the voice of one of the members of the rescue team. “Two people, one unconscious, one awake, both hurt bad.”

 

“Do you know who it is?” Matty asked. The team held their breath, waiting for the answer. Could it possibly be. . .?

“I’ll let him tell you for himself,” the voice said. It was cheerful, and hope flared higher.

 

“Hey, there, I hear you were worried about me,” a familiar voice came through the radio. Jack. The team breathed a collective sigh of relief. “You should know by now it takes more than a little ole’ bomb to take out Jack Dalton.”

 

“How’s Mac?” Matty asked, anxiously, given voice to what they were all thinking. “Is he there?”

 

Jack’s voice turned somber. “He’s here, but he’s hurt bad. There’s a chunk of concrete on his back. It’s probably broken.”

 

They were all silent, thinking of the ramifications. There was nothing they could do right now. They’d just have to wait and see.

 

“How are you, Jack?” Matty asked.

 

“Alive. Breathing. Awake. Better than Mac, I guess. My leg’s pinned, though. Hurts like hell. I’m guessing it’s crushed. Gonna take all the king’s horses and all the king’s men to put Jack together again.”

 

“Well, at least you’re alive,” Matty said. “Let me talk to your rescuers again.”

 

There was silence as Jack passed over the radio, then the first voice spoke again. “As you can hear, they’re trapped, but we can get them out.”

 

“Thank God,” Matty breathed, the rest of the team echoing the sentiment. “How long will it take?”

 

“A couple of hours at least,” the voice replied. “It’s pretty unstable here, and we’re going to have to be very careful. We can do it, though.”

 

“Do your best. Get them out alive,” Matty ordered.

 

It took two hours to get Mac out. The team looked on as the rescuers carried Mac out of the rubble on a backboard. He was as still as death and as pale as a ghost. Oxygen hissed from the mask on his face. “Mac. . .” Bozer cried brokenly, reaching for his friend.

 

One of the rescuers firmly but kindly pushed him aside. “Sir, we have to get him to the hospital.”

 

Bozer nodded. “Will he be alright?”

 

“I don’t know,” the man said. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

With that, they loaded Mac into a waiting ambulance and sped off, leaving the team behind.

 

Now, they just had to free Jack.

 

That took another hour. Jack stayed on the radio the entire time, regaling them with stories of his childhood in Texas, his time in Delta Force, his days with the CIA, and missions with Mac. Anything to keep him conscious and keep his mind off the pain in his leg. At last, the rescuers moved aside the last of the rubble and carried Jack out on a stretcher. According to what the rescuers told Matty, he had a compound fracture in three places and the bone crushed in at least two.

 

They paused by the team. “How are you doing, Dalton?” Matty asked.

 

“Leg looks like mincemeat,” Jack said, “but they say I’ll live. How’s Mac?”

 

“At the hospital,” Matty replied. “It’s too soon to tell what the damage is, but he’s stable. He’s in surgery to relieve the pressure on his spine.”

 

“The kid’s strong,” Jack said. “He’ll pull through.” None of them mentioned what they were all thinking—that spinal damage was likely, that there was a good chance Mac would never walk again. There was a good chance Jack would never be fit for the field again, either—it would likely take multiple surgeries and months of PT to put his leg back together again, and who knew if he’d regain full range of motion? Time would tell on both counts.

 

Jack broke the heavy silence that had fallen on the team. “Tell me we at least got the sons of bitches.”

 

Matty nodded. “Top 10 leaders killed or captured, hundreds more scattered. The Organization is dead.”

 

“Good,” Jack said vehemently. “At least we won.” They all knew it was an empty win, though.

 

More silence. Riley broke it. “Where do we go from here?” she asked.

 

“We rebuild,” Matty said.

 

“The Phoenix rising from the ashes,” Bozer said. “It’ll never be the same though.” The “without Mac and Jack” went unsaid.

 

“No,” Matty said, “but we’ll do the best we can.”

 

It was all they could do.


	18. With a Little Bit of Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny thinks he's the luckiest man in the world.
> 
> Song: With a Little Bit of Luck  
> Artist: My Fair Lady  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: McDanno implied  
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about just going with the title and doing a lucky escape for either pair, maybe with a first kiss thrown in, but I decided to go with this.

“Danno! Uncle Steve! We’re here!” Grace called as she made her way to the kitchen laden with grocery bags.

 

Danny came in from the lanai. He had barely set foot inside when he was assaulted by two little whirlwinds attaching themselves to each leg. “Danno!”

 

Danny laughed and ruffled his grandkids’ hair affectionately. “Hey, munchkins. How are my two favorite boys today?”

 

“Fine, Danno,” five-year-old Sammy said. “Where’s Unca Steve?”

 

“He’s heating up the grill,” Danny replied. “He’s making pork tenderloin.”

 

Three-year-old John made a face. “I want hamburgers.”

 

Grace came out of the kitchen and kissed her father on the top of his head. “Now, John, what I have told you?”

 

“Don’t complain about the food and eat what I’m given,” John recited, dutifully.

 

“That’s right,” Grace said.

 

“I’m sure Steve will make hamburgers if you ask nicely,” Danny told the boys.

 

“Danno, you’re spoiling them!” Grace chided.

 

“It’s my prerogative as the grandpa,” Danny said.

 

Grace looked at him, affectionately. “I suppose it is.” She became businesslike. “Now, I have the groceries for the week put away. Let me know if you need anything.”

 

“Monkey, I’ve told you, you don’t have to buy our groceries,” Danny protested.

 

“I know,” Grace said, “but you did so much for me, it’s the least I can do.”

 

Danny changed the subject. “Where’s Will?”

 

“Uncle Lou and Aunt Renee had a plumbing problem, so he went to take care of that,” Grace replied. “He’ll be along shortly.”

 

“What about Charlie?”

 

“He worked graveyard last night. He was going to get some sleep before coming over,” Grace said.

 

Danny nodded at that. “That’s right.”

 

“Can we go swimming, Danno?” John asked.

 

“Ask your mom,” Danny said.

 

“Can we, Mommy?” Two pairs of eyes turned imploringly towards Grace.

 

“Yes, boys, you can. Just don’t get out of Danno’s sight.” She turned to Danny. “Go on out on the lanai, and I’ll bring you out some lemonade.”

 

Danny kissed her cheek. “You spoil me.”

 

Danny followed the eager boys outside. They stopped to fling themselves at Steve at the grill. “Unca Steve!”

 

Steve stooped down and enveloped both of them in a bear hug. “Hi, Sammy! Hi, John! Going swimming?”

 

“Yeah!” Sammy said. “Come with us?”

 

“I can’t,” Steve said, regretfully. “I have to make sure dinner doesn’t burn. Why don’t you ask Danno?”

 

“Danno don’t swim,” Sammy said, solemnly.

 

Steve laughed. By now, it was well known that Danno did, in fact, swim, and surf, and do all kinds of water-related things he still protested each time he did, but it was a fiction the family kept up. “Maybe he’ll make an exception.”

 

“Will you, Danno?” they asked.

 

“I suppose I could go out in the shallows.” He held out his hands, and the boys led him down to the water. Danny let them splash him, gently splashing back. They played for an hour or so until Steve called them.

 

“Dinner’s ready!”

 

They dried off and made their way to the lanai. Will and Charlie had arrived, and greetings were had all around. Dinner was served, Grace insisting on making plates for both Steve and Danny as well as the boys.

 

“Can I have a beer?” Danny asked.

 

“Danno, you know you’re not supposed to drink with your meds,” Grace scolded.

 

“Aw, come on,” Danny pleaded. “One beer won’t hurt.”

 

Grace sighed. “Fine. Just one.” She fetched it and placed it in front of Danny.

 

Danny raised his beer in a toast. “Here’s to family.”

 

The others raised their drinks in response. “Hear, hear!”

 

The family dove into their food, silence reigning except for occasional requests to pass dishes and noises of contentment. For dessert, Steve grilled pineapple and served it with coconut ice cream. Danny, naturally, passed on the pineapple.

 

“Why do you insist on feeding it to me?” he complained. “You know I can’t stand the stuff.”

 

“You’re supposed to eat what you’re given,” John reminded him.

 

“Not pineapple!”

 

Steve laughed. “I keep hoping after all these years you might change your mind.”

 

“Not happening,” Danny said, stubbornly.

 

After dessert, the boys were tired, so Grace and Will carried them upstairs for a nap while Charlie did the dishes. Steve and Danny took their places in the chairs on the beach like they had for so many years.

 

Danny stretched his legs out and took a pull of his beer (it was his only one, so he was savoring it). “This is the life.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said. “We’re the luckiest men in the world.”

 

“Amen,” Danny said. “We’re retired from public service, we’ve got family who takes care of us, we’ve got each other, and we’ve got Longboards.”

 

Steve chuckled at the last. “Who could ask for more?”

 

“Not me,” Danny said. “Not me.”


	19. Living and Living Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve had always been a loner, until Danny.
> 
> Song: Living and Living Well  
> Artist: George Strait  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: McDanno  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting lots of McDanno slice of life, but it just didn't feel right with MacDalton, though I thought about putting it in the Stray Dog Man universe.

Steve McGarrett had always been a loner. Sure, he was popular in high school, quarterback of the football team and all, and he was always surrounded by people, but he preferred to hold himself apart. He preferred to spend his days surfing on his own rather than partying with his friends; he made appearances when he had to—it was, after all, expected of him—but he slipped away as soon as possible.

 

It continued once Steve was sent away to the mainland, first to the military academy, then Annapolis. He kept to himself, generally holed up in the library with his books, or shut away in his room working on papers. He was a star student, and everybody knew to leave him alone.

 

That changed somewhat when Steve met Freddie Hart. Freddie was a gregarious soul with a large, noisy family. He latched onto Steve and dragged him home over the holidays. Steve was always warmed by the welcome he got from the Harts, was always reminded of what he hadn’t had since his mom died, or before that really, but he couldn’t wait to get back to the quiet of his quarters.

 

Even in the SEALs, living in the pocket of the other guys on his team, Steve kept to himself. He laughed and joked and had their backs, but between missions, Steve kept to his quarters—one of the benefits of being a Lt. Commander was having space to himself. If he wanted human companionship, he could always go hang out with Freddie or some of the other guys on his team, and if he didn’t, he could close his door and lose himself in a book, or exercise, or whatever he felt like.

 

Steve assumed that would continue when he was back in Hawaii. For the most part, it did; he went to bed alone, woke up alone, swam alone, ran alone. When he felt like it, he’d have the team over for a barbecue, but it was all his choice, all in his hands.

 

Except when it came to Danny Williams. From the moment Danny burst onto Steve’s crime scene and pointed a gun at him (okay, maybe, Steve conceded, maybe it was Danny’s crime scene at the time, but it was Steve’s soon enough), Danny Williams wormed his way into Steve’s life, starting with the task force. Yeah, Danny claimed Steve was the one who shanghaied him onto Five-0, but how could Steve not? Danny was the type of person who made an impression on you, and the impression he made on Steve was that he belonged on the task force. He was irresistible from the start and soon became more so.

 

No sooner had Steve gotten used to Danny being part of his life than he met Grace. The adorable little girl with her father’s bubbly personality was just as irresistible. Soon, she was included in family get togethers, and even when the rest of the ohana wasn’t around, she and Danny would frequently be found at Steve’s house. It started with using his beach, then graduated to grilling after she’d had her fill of sun and sand, then movies when it rained. Soon, the two Williamses were there more often than they weren’t.

 

It wasn’t just when Danny was with Grace, either. He and Steve rode to work together, and Steve would usually find Danny in the kitchen waiting with a cup of coffee and maybe some malasadas when Steve got back from his swim. At night, they were frequently exhausted from a case, and it just made sense for Danny to come into the house with Steve. They’d watch a game or sit out on the beach watching the sunset and drinking beer. Eventually, Danny would leave, and Steve would head up to bed alone to wake by himself and head out for his swim alone, only to find Danny in the kitchen when he got back. Some nights, if Danny was too tired, he’d crash on the couch until he complained that it was too hard on his back and the waves were too noisy. Somehow, that led to Danny sharing Steve’s bed on those nights, a warm, comforting presence next to Steve, even with Danny’s back towards the SEAL and plenty of space between them.

 

Steve didn’t realize just how much a part of his life Danny was until Danny went back to Jersey to testify in one of his old cases. Danny was gone for a whole week, and Steve thought he would crawl out of his skin. He was restless. He couldn’t sleep. He paced back and forth across his office. His temper was shorter than usual, and he took it out on perps. Chin called him on it, telling him to reign it in, but Steve couldn’t help it. Something just wasn’t right. Something was missing.

 

It only took Steve a couple of days to realize that something was Danny. He took to calling Danny nightly, as soon as he got home, even though it was five hours later in New Jersey. They’d talk until Danny was too tired to hold the phone, and Steve would hang up feeling calmer, able to cook dinner and relax with the TV on and eventually fall asleep. It wasn’t the same knowing Danny wouldn’t be there in the morning, though.

 

Steve met Danny at the airport when he got back. Steve had never seen a better sight than that blonde head coming towards him. He engulfed Danny in a hug, probably a little too tight for just friends. “I missed you,” Steve said, maybe a little more honestly than he intended.

 

Danny pulled out of the hug and slapped Steve on the back. “Missed you, too, babe,” he said. “Now, let’s go home.”

 

Home, of course, meant Steve’s. They stopped by Danny’s apartment long enough for him to dump his bags and change, then headed to Steve’s. It wasn’t until they were settled in their chairs on the beach drinking Longboards that Steve finally felt all was right with his world. This was the way things should be, he realized. Danny should always be by his side. This was what Steve wanted every day for the rest of his life. “Marry me,” Steve blurted without thinking.

 

Danny had just taken a swig of his beer. He spit it out again, spluttering. “What?”

 

Steve should have backed down, passed it off as a joke, but he forged ahead, even more sure of himself. “Marry me,” he repeated.

 

Danny turned and gaped at Steve. “You can’t be serious.”

 

Steve placed both his hands on the one Danny had resting on the chair of the arm between him. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

 

Danny yanked his hand out from under Steve’s and started waving both animatedly. “You can’t just propose to someone out of nowhere, you Neanderthal! We aren’t even dating!”

 

“But we are,” Steve said, earnestly. “We’ve been dating for years.”

 

“How do you figure that?” Danny demanded.

 

“We go out to eat, we go to movies, we get drinks, we hang out on weekends. We even sleep together.”

 

“Platonically!” Danny said.

 

“But it doesn’t have to be,” Steve said.

 

“Steven, we’ve never even kissed!” Danny said.

 

“We can change that.” Steve grabbed Danny’s flailing arms and held them still. He leaned towards Danny and, before the blond could protest, sealed their lips together.

 

Danny just sat there, frozen. Steve was starting to think he’d blown it when Danny started kissing back. The kiss grew heated. Danny’s mouth opened to Steve, and Steve eagerly invaded, mapping every inch of the warm, welcome heat, tasting beer and something distinctly Danny. Steve tried to draw Danny closer, but the arm of the chair was in the way.

 

Danny broke the kiss. Steve was afraid Danny was going to hit him, but Danny just moved to straddle Steve’s lap before he resumed the kiss at twice its previous intensity. Steve moaned, the sound swallowed by Danny’s mouth as Danny’s tongue took its turn exploring Steve’s mouth. Danny shifted, and their cocks brushed against each other, shooting little jolts of pleasure through Steve. Steve reached for the button of Danny’s shorts, but Danny stopped him.

 

“Steve, wait!”

 

He’d gone too far. Steve immediately pulled back. “Sorry, Danny, I’m sorry. I thought. . .”

 

Danny gave him a quick, firm kiss, one that promised this wasn’t over yet. “No, you goof, I just don’t want to have sex out here where sand can get in inappropriate places.”

 

“Oh.” Steve sighed in relief. “Bed?”

 

“Bed,” Danny agreed, giving Steve one last kiss for good measure.

 

Later, they lay tangled in bed together, sleepy and sated, Steve on his back, Danny sprawled across Steve’s chest. Steve stroked the messy blond head, hair no longer strictly confined by product. “Stay,” Steve said.

 

Danny burrowed deeper into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Too comfortable.”

 

“No,” Steve said. “I mean stay, forever.”

 

Danny lifted his head and smiled up at Steve. “I know,” he said. “So did I.”


	20. The Ballad of St. Anne's Reel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring while on liberty, Steve finds himself in the tiny town of St. Anne on Prince Edward Island.
> 
> Song: The Ballad of St. Anne's Reel  
> By: McGinty  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: Steve McGarrett/OFC  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> St. Anne's Reel is a traditional fiddle tune; this is a song set to the tune.
> 
> I thought about making it McDanno, but it felt more natural making it a pre-series one-off encounter. I thought about doing it with Jack, but it made a lot more sense for Steve in the navy to wander into a waterfront town. Enjoy!

Steve stepped off the bus in the tiny town on Prince Edward Island. He wasn’t even sure where he was. When his ship had put into Halifax for a few days liberty after practice maneuvers with the Canadian Navy, his buddies had hit the town determined to paint it red. Steve had begged off and, instead, had bought a bus ticket to a random destination. Now he was here, wherever here was.

 

A weathered wooden sign caught his eye. Welcome to St. Anne, it read. The letters had once been a cheerful blue, but rain and wind and snow had faded them to gray. It matched the gray December dusk.

 

Steve hitched his duffel up on his shoulder and looked around, wondering where to go. There wasn’t much to the town, a few buildings, a diner, a general store, a sporting goods store, what looked like a hotel. Maybe he should just get back on the bus and head to the next town down the line. Steve was reluctant to do so. Something in this town drew him.

 

Mind made up, Steve walked over to the diner. A blast of welcome warm air hit him as he walked in, bell tinkling above him. It was past lunch and before dinner, so there were just a few customers, fishermen by the looks of them, as weathered as the town. Steve strode up to the counter and sat down.

 

“Can I help you?” a pretty young waitress with long brown hair tied back in a low ponytail asked him. Anne, her nametag said. Like the town, Steve thought.

 

“Cup of coffee,” Steve said. “And do you have pie?”

 

Anne’s face lit up in a grin that chased away the gloom. “Best apple pie on Prince Edward Island,” she said.

 

Steve turned his best grin back on her, the one guaranteed to make women swoon. It had the desired effect. “That sounds great. Piece of apple pie, please.”

 

Anne brought him his coffee and pie and lingered. “You’re not from around here,” she said.

 

“No,” Steve confirmed. “I’m in the Navy. A SEAL. Name’s Steve.” He held out his hand, and Anne shook it.

 

“Good to meet you, Steve,” she said. “What brings you here?”

 

“A few days liberty. My ship’s down in Halifax, so I decided to explore.”

 

“Bit off the beaten path, ain’t ya?” she said.

 

“Maybe,” Steve said, “but I like it that way.” There was a pause. “So, what’s there for a sailor to do around here?” Steve asked with a wink.

 

Anne blushed becomingly. “I get off in an hour. I can show you around if you like,” she suggested.

 

“Sounds great. In the meantime, is there a place I can stay?”

 

“St. Anne Hotel just down the street should have rooms,” Anne said. “Not many tourists this time of year.”

 

Steve pulled out some bills to cover his coffee and pie plus a generous tip. “I’ll just look into that, then. See you in an hour.”

 

The hotel did, indeed, have a room for Steve. It was far from luxurious, small with a twin-sized bed with what looked like a handmade, threadbare quilt and a worn-out gray carpet on the floor. A functional bathroom with a chipped sink, a toilet, and a shower was attached. Like the rest of the town, it had seen better days. Steve didn’t care, though—he’d certainly slept in worse. Anyplace with a bed and running water was downright hedonistic.

 

Steve got settled and headed back to the diner right on time. Anne was just coming out of the back, uniform swapped for a heavy, brown, wool skirt and black leggings and a warm-looking brown coat with hints of a maroon sweater peeking out. “Ready?” she asked.

 

Steve offered her his arm. “Lead on.”

 

They wandered the main street of the town, though there wasn’t much that Steve hadn’t noticed when he first arrived. It looked like the tour would be over almost before it began when Anne spoke.

 

“There’s a dance at the Masonic Hall,” she said. “Would you like to go?”

 

Steve hesitated. “It sounds like fun, but I’m not much of a dancer.”

 

“That’s okay,” Anne said. “It’s easy—anyone can do it. I’ll show you.”

 

“Okay, then,” Steve said.

 

Holding hands, they walked towards a large hall at the end of the town on the water. Light spilled from the big doors, and the sound of fiddles drifted into the night. “That doesn’t sound like the dance music I’m used to,” Steve said.

 

“It’s not,” Anne said. “It’s contra dance. Kind of like the Virginia Reel. You dance in long lines, and the caller tells you what to do. You dance with a different couple every time through, and you switch partners between dances.”

 

Steve vaguely remembered the Virginia Reel from PE in elementary school. “Sounds like fun,” Steve said. “I’m game.”

 

It was not nearly as easy as Anne had said. Steve stumbled over his feet and his partner’s feet and lost his place in the dance more than once, but he soon had the hang of it, moving up and back in long lines, swinging his partner, and allemanding like a pro. It seemed like Steve danced with every woman there, smiling and flirting while they smiled and flirted back, but he always came back to Anne.

 

“I had a great time,” Steve said as he held Anne in his arms for the last waltz. “Thank you for inviting me.”

 

Anne smiled that million watt smile. “Me, too,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”

 

Steve smiled back and held her closer, burying his face in the top of her head and drawing in the faint salty tang that seemed to permeate everything in the town. It felt so right here with Anne in his arms, so right in this town. Steve never wanted to leave, but he knew come morning he would have to.

 

When the dance was over, Steve took Anne’s hand in his, and they walked back to the hotel. He paused outside, reluctant to say goodbye. “Would you like to come up?”

 

“I’d better not,” Anne said, reluctantly. “I have an early shift, and you have a bus to catch.”

 

“You’re probably right,” Steve said. He pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket and scribbled something. “Here. You can email me sometime. I can’t promise I’ll answer right away, though.”

 

Anne took the pen and scribbled something on the bottom of the piece of paper, then ripped it off. “Here’s mine. Internet can be kind of spotty, but I’ll answer when I can.”

 

“Fair enough.” Steve pocketed the slip of paper. He tentatively put out his hand and cupped Anne’s cheek. Her hand came up to cover it. “I had a really nice time tonight,” Steve said.

 

“Me, too,” Anne replied.

 

Steve leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Anne’s. Their mouths moved softly against each other for a few seconds until they pulled back. Steve smiled. “Good night, Anne.”

 

“Good night, Steve,” she replied.

 

Steve went up to his room and slept soundly, fiddle tunes echoing in his head and shadowy figures twirling in his mind’s eye. In the morning, he shouldered his duffel and headed towards the bus station. Steve noticed the lights were on in the diner and briefly contemplated stopping by for a cup of coffee and one last goodbye, but he knew it was better if he didn’t. With one final glance behind him, Steve boarded the bus, leaving St. Anne and heading back to the real world.


	21. Durham Gaol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack bails Dawn out of jail. He really should know better.
> 
> Song: Durham Gaol  
> Artist: Molly's Revenge  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: Jack/Dawn  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Durham Gaol (pronounced jail) is a traditional Celtic song.
> 
> I originally thought about doing this with Sang Min, then doing it with Dawn struck me, and that just fit so much better.
> 
> I couldn't find a last name for Dawn, so I gave her one.

 

“Will you accept a collect call from Dawn Heald?” the tinny, nasal voice came through the line. And how come with all the modern recording technology they hadn’t upgraded that? Jack thought idly.

 

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Jack knew it was a mistake, knew the team would berate him if they found out, but he just couldn’t walk away from Dawn. Despite her criminal tendencies, he felt like they were kindred spirits; they both knew what it was like to hide your real self behind a facade, even if they did it for different reasons. Jack hadn’t met a woman he had so much in common with since Sarah. It was hard to turn his back on that.

 

“Jack?” Dawn’s voice came on the line. “I need help.”

 

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course she did. It was too much to hope for that she just missed him, just wanted to hear his voice. Of course, the fact that the call was collect pretty much put paid to that idea; there weren’t many reasons for a collect call these days. Based on the limited options, he had a pretty good idea what she needed. “What did you do this time?”

 

“I didn’t do anything!” she protested.

 

Jack wanted to believe her, but it was hard to after all she’d pulled. “Then, why do you need my help?”

 

There was a pause, then Dawn’s voice came through the line, a little hesitant. “Well, you see, I’ve kind of been arrested. . .I didn’t do it!” she insisted before Jack could say anything. “It’s just a misunderstanding, but, you see, I need bail.”

 

Jack sighed. There was no question he’d bail her out, despite common sense—and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Mac, or maybe Riley—telling him it wasn’t smart. “Where do I send the money.”

 

“I was hoping you’d come get me,” Dawn said. “I kind of need a place to stay, too.”

 

Of course she did. “Where are you?”

 

“St. Louis.”

 

Naturally. It was too much to hope that she was in LA. “Give me a few hours. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He was already scrolling through his laptop, looking for flights.

 

“Thank you, Jack,” she said, relief palpable in her voice. “I knew you’d come through for me.”

 

“Anytime, darlin’.” Worst part was, he meant it, even though he knew he was going to regret it.

 

A few hours later found Jack standing in a police station in St. Louis, a grateful Dawn by his side. The bail had been steep as Dawn had been deemed a flight risk (funny thing about that), but not so steep that Jack couldn’t afford it—she’d been accused of stealing a diamond ring, expensive enough to be a felony, but not a major one.

 

“Alright,” Jack said once they were outside. “Why don’t you tell me how you didn’t steal a diamond ring they found in your possession?”

 

Dawn got into the passenger side as Jack held the door open for her. “I told you, it’s all a misunderstanding. It was a gift.”

 

Jack went around to the driver’s side and got in. “Then, why does the guy who supposedly gave it to you say you stole it?”

 

“Because I broke up with him. He wanted to get back at me, so he told the police I stole the ring from him when he really gave it to me. Of course, the police found it when they came for me, because I had no reason to hide it, and they had the nerve to arrest me.”

 

“So, it’s your word against his,” Jack summed up.

 

“I’m telling the truth!” Dawn insisted. “You believe me, don’t you, Jack?” She turned pleading eyes on him.

 

Jack had to admit it was a plausible scenario. He found it hard not to believe her, but he knew better. He’d give it about a 50-50 chance, and a jury probably would, too. “I’m not the one who matters,” he said, dodging the question. He could tell by the look that past over Dawn’s face she noticed, but she was nice enough not to call him on it. “You’d have to convince a jury.”

 

“No problem,” Dawn said, confidently.

 

You couldn’t say she lacked confidence, Jack thought. With Dawn’s natural glibness, there was a good chance she was right. “You don’t know that,” Jack said. “Honestly, it could go either way.”

 

Dawn got a stubborn look on her face. “I’m not going to jail.”

 

“Maybe you can negotiate a deal.” Jack had a feeling that was not going to go over well, but he had to try.

 

“Not if it involves jail time,” Dawn said, firmly.

 

Jack sighed. “Look, I’ll talk to the DA in the morning, see if it makes any difference if I vouch for you.”

 

Dawn beamed. “Would you, Jack? That would be wonderful! Thank you so much!”

 

Jack knew he was going to regret it.

 

Jack got Dawn set up in a safe house for the night—one of his personal ones, not CIA or Phoenix; he had a few scattered across the country—okay, across the world. She offered to show him just how “grateful” she was, but Jack turned her down. He knew sleeping with her would bring up complicated feelings, and he wanted to avoid that. He didn’t want to get in any deeper than he already was. Dawn insisted on rewarding him with a kiss, so deep and passionate Jack almost gave in and slept with her, but he managed to resist, reminding himself it was likely to result in heartache. Reluctantly, Jack made sure Dawn was settled in her own room before going across the hall to his. He lay awake all night, thinking about what he could have if he just went across the hall. Somehow, Jack managed to stay strong.

 

In the morning, Dawn and Jack went to talk to the Assistant District Attorney who was prosecuting the case. It took several hours and a lot of bargaining, include tears on Dawn’s part and a solemn promise to assume responsibility on Jack’s, but they finally agreed to a year’s parole.

 

Dawn was beaming as they left the DA’s office. “I knew you could do it, Jack!” she said, smacking him on the lips.

 

Oh, how Jack wanted to chase those lips, claim them for his own. He tamped down his desire. “You know this means you have to stay here for the next year, right?”

 

“Of course,” she said, earnestly. “I’ll get a job and everything. I’ll be a model citizen.”

 

Jack shoved aside the little voice—which still sounded an awful lot like Mac and Riley—that said there was no way she was going to stick to that. “Good,” he said. “You can use my place. Once you have a job, we’ll discuss rent.”

 

“That would be wonderful, thank you, Jack.” Dawn trailed a finger down Jack’s bare arm, and he had to suppress a shudder. “I don’t suppose you could stay here with me, could you? It would be so much more bearable with you here.”

 

Jack entertained a fantasy of him and Dawn setting up housekeeping together. After a year, maybe she’d want to come back to LA, settle down with him long term. He knew that was a pipe dream, though. “I can’t,” he said with genuine regret.

 

“Can you visit, at least?” she pleaded.

 

He couldn’t resist kissing her. “Of course,” he said, against his better judgment. “As often as I can.”

 

Her smile could light up a room. “Great! I’ll look forward to it.”

 

Jack made sure Dawn had the basics to get her through until she got a job—sheets, clothes, food—his safe house was stocked, but not for long term. He promised to call her when he reached LA. With a last brain-melting kiss, Jack left to catch his flight home.

 

Jack didn’t even wait to get home before he called Dawn. He was barely off the plane before he was dialing. Jack was disappointed when it went directly to voicemail and even more disappointed when he heard the message.

 

“Hey, Jack,” Dawn’s voice said in his ear. “I appreciate you going out on a limb for me, but you know me. I just can’t be tied to one place for that long. By the time you get this, I’ll have ditched this phone and hit the road. Don’t call me, I’ll call you. Love you, Jack. It’s been fun.”

 

Jack didn’t even have it in him to be surprised.


	22. Big Blue Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn's gone. Jack's having a hard time dealing with it.
> 
> Song: Big Blue Note  
> Artist: Toby Keith  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: MacDalton  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time deciding on who to write. I thought about Steve and Catherine, which seemed the most obvious, but didn't really fit. I thought briefly about Mac and Nikki, but that wasn't right either. I had about decided on Danny and Melissa when using Dawn again occurred to me, so you get two Dawn/Jack stories in a row. This one ends with MacDalton, though. :)

Jack dropped gratefully into his seat on the plane. It had been a three-week mission from hell in some tiny Asian country where they couldn’t have gotten cell reception even if they hadn’t been radio silent. That meant it had been three weeks since Jack had talked to Dawn. She’d shown up about six months ago wanting another chance and swearing she’d gone straight for good this time. She and Jack had been living in domestic bliss since then. Jack had used his connections to get her a job in a high-end jewelry store. Jack thought it was a perfect fit—no one could deny Dawn’s expertise with jewelry. She was even studying to become a certified gemologist. His friends warned him that was way too much temptation for a woman with Dawn’s history, but Jack refused to listen. Despite his teammates’ continued skepticism, Jack had high hopes that Dawn was finally settling down. He was even starting to imagine that little house in the suburbs with the white picket fence and little Jacks running around.

 

“I can’t wait to get home,” Jack said as he buckled in for the long flight. “It’s been hell not talking to Dawn. This is the longest we’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other. I’m sure she’s been wondering if I’m alright. I can’t wait to reassure her.” Not to mention that the welcome home sex would be fantastic.

 

“Yeah, about that. . .” Matty said from the screen where she was getting ready to debrief them.

 

Jack was immediately on alert. “Did something happen to her?”

 

“More like she happened,” Matty said. “We got word someone robbed the jewelry store were she worked. Dawn’s the prime suspect.”

 

Jack’s heart sank, but he refused to believe Dawn had done it. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Has anybody talked to Dawn?”

 

“That’s just it,” Matty said. “Dawn’s in the wind with over $100,000 worth of jewelry.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack demanded. “I could have tracked her down, convinced her to come clean.”

 

“Maybe because we had five minutes of communication every three days,” Matty snarked. “Pardon me if I thought talking about the mission was more important. Besides,” she added, “we all know no one’s going to find Dawn if she doesn’t want to be found.”

 

Matty had a point, but Jack refused to admit things wouldn’t have been different if he’d known. “Dammit,” he swore. “I should have been there.”

 

“Look, Jack,” Matty said, sympathetically, “I know you thought Dawn had changed, but this was inevitable. It’s not the first time she’s claimed to go straight. We tried to warn you she’d break your heart.”

 

Jack held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t, okay? I know none of you liked her, but don’t go saying anything bad about her. Just leave me alone.”

 

The others respected his wishes. Other than the debrief, they steered clear of him for the rest of the flight. Once they landed in LA, Jack rushed home, sure he’d find Dawn waiting with an explanation or at least some note or something letting him know where to find her.

 

He had no such luck. There was a note written in green pen on a blue sheet of paper propped on his pillow, but it wasn’t instructions on how to find her. Pretty much the opposite, in fact.

 

Dear Jack (it read),

 

I know you were hoping this would be long term this time, but it’s just not for me. I gave it my best shot, but I’m just not the domestic type. A husband and a home and a 9 to 5 job just isn’t for me. I hope you understand. Maybe some day our paths will cross again. In the meantime, don’t bother to look for me.

 

It’s been fun,

Dawn

 

Jack had to read the note twice before it sank in. Dawn had really left. Six months gone just like that, no warning or anything. Deep down, Jack couldn’t say he was surprised, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Jack was reaching for his phone to call Mac even though he knew Mac would just say “I told you so” when a knock came on his door.

 

Jack went to answer it, hoping against hope it was Dawn saying she’d changed her mind. It wasn’t, of course. Instead, it was Mac with a six pack of beer and a pizza.

 

“Thought you might need some company,” Mac said.

 

Jack held the door open. “I suppose you’re going to say ‘I told you so’.”

 

Mac moved past Jack into the living room and set the items down on the coffee table. “No, you don’t need me to say that. Just thought you might need a sympathetic ear.”

 

If there was one person who could make Jack feel better, it was Mac. The kid was his best friend, and sometimes Jack thought he might even be more than that. Not a brother like Jack always said, but a partner in life as well as work. After Sarah, before Dawn came along, Jack had briefly entertained the thought that maybe he could have something with Mac. Not that that was likely—Mac was still getting over Nikki, and besides, he was straight. That aside, Mac was always there for Jack, and that meant the world to the soldier.

 

Jack collapsed on the sofa, Mac next to him. “I really thought we had something,” Jack said, dejectedly. “I really thought we could make it work this time.”

 

Mac held out a beer to Jack which he took, gratefully. “I know,” Mac said. “It sucks, man.”

 

Jack took a large swallow. “Six months,” he said. “That’s the longest relationship I’ve had since Diane, and Dawn just threw it all away like it meant nothing to her.”

 

Mac put his arm around Jack in an awkward one-armed hug. Jack leaned into it, relishing it. He knew it was just platonic, but it was still the most loved he’d felt in a long time, his time with Dawn included. “Did you love her?” Mac asked.

 

Jack wished with all his heart he could say yes, but the truth was, he couldn’t. The truth was, he didn’t, not like he’d loved Sarah, not like he loved Mac. “I don’t know,” Jack said, honestly. “Maybe. We were good together, I know that, and I really hoped we’d last.”

 

The arm moved from Jack’s shoulder to his knee. Mac’s hand rested there, radiating heat through the material of Jack’s jeans. It felt so good. Mac gestured at the note Jack was still holding. “That from her?”

 

Jack crumpled it and threw it on the coffee table. “Yeah, but you don’t want to read it. It’s a real downer.”

 

Mac accepted that and handed Jack another beer. Without saying anything, Mac loaded up Die Hard, and they watched the entire series in companionable silence until all the beer and pizza were gone.

 

After Mac left, Jack picked up the note, smoothed it out, and put it under his pillow.

 

Mac did his best to keep Jack’s mind off Dawn for the next couple of months. Mac had Jack over for pizza and beer and movies nearly every night, sometimes with the team, sometimes not. Most of the time, Dawn was pushed to the back of Jack’s mind, but some nights, Jack just needed time to himself to wallow. Those nights, he’d put on his comfiest sweats and his favorite Metallica t-shirt, curl up in bed with just a dim bedside light on, and reread Dawn’s note.

 

It was one of those nights that Mac came over. Jack was expecting him—the younger man had texted repeatedly and even called, but Jack hadn’t felt like talking and had ignored him. Jack knew Mac wouldn’t give up, though, so the soldier wasn’t surprised when the knock came on his door. Jack still ignored it, hoping Mac would go away. Mac didn’t; a few minutes later Jack heard a key turn in the lock and footsteps heading down the hall to the bedroom.

 

“Hey, man, are you alright?” Mac asked. “I’m worried about you. You seemed down today.”

 

Jack shoved Dawn’s note under his pillow, hoping Mac wouldn’t see it. The soldier stayed curled up on his side, back to Mac. “Yeah, just need a little time to myself.”

 

Mac sat down on the bed. “No offense, but you look like being alone’s the last thing you need.” His eye caught a corner of the note under Jack’s pillow. “Is that Dawn’s note? Haven’t you gotten rid of that thing yet?”

 

Jack sighed. “I can’t. Sometimes, I just need to read it to remind me of what we had.”

 

Mac placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. The touch immediately made Jack feel better; Mac had that effect on him. Oh, how Jack wished it were more than just a friendly pat, but it wasn’t to be. “You need to let her go,” Mac said, gently.

 

“I know,” Jack said, “but it’s hard, you know? I just feel so alone. When I was with Dawn, I could forget that. I actually thought I had someone to come home to, someone who cared. Now, I don’t have that.”

 

“You have me,” Mac said, softly, so softly Jack wasn’t sure he’d heard it. Didn’t matter; Mac didn’t mean it the way Jack wanted him to.

 

“It’s not the same,” Jack said, curling tighter into himself. “We’re not going to grow old together.”

 

“Who says?” Mac said. “I can’t say that I’d mind.”

 

Jack rolled away from Mac and sat up. “Don’t do that, man. My heart can’t take it.”

 

“Do what?” Mac asked, puzzled.

 

“Say things like that,” Jack said. “Things you don’t mean the way I want you to.”

 

“How do you want me to mean it?” Mac said.

 

“I want you to want me like I wanted Dawn or Sarah,” Jack said, frustrated, “but I know it’s never going to happen.”

 

Mac gently took Jack’s chin in his hand and turned Jack’s face to look at him. “Look at me, Jack.” Reluctantly, Jack did, staring into earnest blue eyes. “That’s exactly how I mean it, if that’s what you want.”

 

“More than anything,” Jack breathed. “I just. . .I couldn’t stand it if you left, too.”

 

“I won’t,” Mac promised. He pressed his lips gently to Jack’s. “I haven’t left yet, and I don’t plan to.”

 

Jack closed his eyes and savored the kiss. Hope filled him, but he was too afraid of being hurt to take what was offered. “I know, Mac, rationally, I know you’d never do that, but right now my heart’s to hurt to believe it. I’m just not ready yet.”

 

Mac placed another light kiss on Jack’s lips. “I know. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Jack nodded and lay back down. Mac moved to get up. Jack put a hand out to stop him. “Stay, please.”

 

“I’ll just be on the couch,” Mac said.

 

“No, stay here, please,” Jack said. He patted the bed beside him. “Just, hold me.”

 

“Of course, Jack.” Mac stripped to his boxers and t-shirt and crawled under the covers next to Jack. The blond gathered the older man into his arms and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “Go to sleep, Jack. I’ll be right here.”

 

Jack snuggled into Mac’s arms and slept.

 

Mac was still asleep when Jack woke up the next morning. That was unusual. Jack wasn’t a morning person, and usually Mac was up and out for a run before Jack even stirred. Jack took advantage of the situation and watched Mac sleep, arms still tight around Jack. Jack marveled that everything he’d never let himself want was right here with him. Mac was right; it was time to let Dawn go, to let go of the fear of getting hurt, to let himself truly love and be loved.

 

Jack lay in bed, dozing and enjoying being held, until Mac stirred. Sleepy blue eyes blinked up at Jack. “Hey,” Mac said, voice rough with sleep. “Sleep well?”

 

“Yeah.” Jack gathered his courage and tilted his head to kiss Mac. It was just as sweet as the night before, and Jack sighed at the feeling of Mac’s lips moving against his. “I’ve been thinking. . .” Jack started, then trailed off.

 

Mac lifted himself up on his elbow. He looked at Jack, concerned. “What is it, Jack?”

 

Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes, asking himself if he was sure about what he was about to say. He opened his eyes and looked into Mac’s face, nothing but love and concern showing in it. Yeah, Jack wanted this. He leaned over and kissed Mac, hard, licking at Mac’s lips and darting his tongue in to tangle with Mac’s when the other man opened to him. Jack moaned and rolled so he was on top of Mac, covering the smaller man with his body.

 

Mac pulled back and looked up at Jack. “Are you sure about this?”

 

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure, Mac. I’m ready. I want this. I want you.” He leaned down and captured Mac’s lips with his own again, feeling all the sadness, loneliness, and despair he’d felt when Dawn left melt away. He could finally accept it; Dawn was gone—but Mac was here.

 


	23. The Scarlet Pimpernel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac, Jack, and Riley speculate on who The Ghost is. Set during 1.6 Wrench.
> 
> Song: The Scarlet Pimpernel  
> Artist: The Scarlet Pimpernel  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard. I initially thought of doing one where an outside agency is trying to track Jack through his aliases, then I thought of the ghost. I watched wrench for any background, and there's this great scene in the car where Mac and Jack are talking about rumors they heard, so I decided to expand on that.
> 
> Dialogue from the episode is in italics; the rest is mine.

 

“ _I heard stories about the ghost_ ,” _Jack said as he drove._ _“Seems like every soldier I talked to had a different take on it. One guy said he blew his jaw off building a bomb and he can’t even talk no more.”_

 

“ _Yeah, I heard that one, too,” Mac said._ _“I also heard he burned his vocal cords out breathing in fumes over the years.”_

 

“That sounds far-fetched,” Riley said from the back seat where she was keeping an eye on the ghost’s signal.

 

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Jack said. “I heard one story that said he has to use waldoes to build his bombs because he burned his hands off.”

 

“Yeah, stories about him being burned are pretty common,” Mac said. “A lot of folks liken him to the Phantom of the Opera.”

 

“That guy in the mask?” Riley said.

 

“Yeah,” Mac said. “That guy supposedly got burned with acid, not had a bomb blow up in his face, but same idea. Hates people just about as much, too, only he terrorizes the whole world, not just an opera house.”

 

“So, he just builds bomb for whoever pays him the most?” Riley asked.

 

“Pretty much,” Mac answered. “He’s bombed Muslims, Jews, Christians, operated in the Middle East, Europe, Africa, you name it. The US is the only place he’s never operated in.”

 

“Until now,” Jack pointed out. “How much farther, Riley?”

 

Riley consulted her laptop. “A few more blocks.” She still burned to know more about this phantom they were chasing. “So, nobody’s seen him?”

 

“Nope,” Jack said.

 

“No DNA, fingerprints, or even scraps of cloth, either,” Mac said. “Nothing. That’s why they call him The Ghost.”

 

“So, for all you know,” Riley said. “The ghost could be a woman.”

 

“I never thought of that,” Mac said. “I suppose.”

 

“Not likely, though,” Jack put in. “Women don’t tend to use bombs. They’re much more up close and personal. Now, poison, there’s a woman’s weapon.”

 

“Do they even know his nationality?” Riley asked.

 

“No, but there’s all kinds of speculation,” Mac said. “Some say he secretly works for the CIA, and that’s why he never operates on US soil.”

 

“I heard he’s the prince of a Middle Eastern country trying to make a show of power,” Jack said.

 

“I hardly think he’d be anonymous if that were so,” Mac said. “I heard he used to build weapons for the Soviets but got imprisoned after the Cold War ended.”

 

“Yeah, and he blew his way out of prison and went on the lam,” Jack continued.

 

“I also heard he got passed over for a Nobel Laureate in physics, and this is his revenge,” Mac put in.

 

“Some even say Mac here’s the ghost,” Jack said.

 

“Trust me, I’m not,” Mac said.

 

“Of course not, buddy,” Jack said. “You wouldn’t be spending all this time and energy looking for him if you were.”

 

“Sure is a lot of conjecture,” Riley said.

 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Mac said.

 

“ _Whatever’s true,” Jack said, “the guy sounds like a monster.”_

 

“ _Yeah, well,” Mac said, “that’s the one thing all the stories got right.”_

 

“Stop here,” Riley said to Jack. He pulled over. “This is it, folks,” Riley said.

 

“Well,” Jack said, checking his gun and opening the car door, “whoever The Ghost is, looks like we’re about to find out.”

 

Together, they headed into the building to finally face The Ghost.


	24. I'm Not That Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's marrying Catherine. Danny really wishes it were him.
> 
> Song: I'm Not That Girl  
> Artist: Wicked  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: McDanno  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could easily have been Danny/Melissa, Mac/Nikki, Jack/Sarah, or Steve/Catherine. This is weighted a little heavily towards MacGyver, so I went with H50. Danny picking up the pieces after Catherine leaves seems to be my go-to, so that's what you get.

The case was over; it was time to go home. Danny was dreading it. Today, there would be no companionable ride in the Camaro, bickering good-naturedly, no sitting down on the beach with beers watching the sunset, no movies cuddled up on the couch. Today, Steve was going home to propose to Catherine.

 

Danny sat in the Camaro and watched Steve’s Silverado pull out with a heavy heart. Danny had a bad feeling about this. He didn’t trust Catherine not to break Steve’s heart, again. She’d already left him once in a life-or-death situation, for a good reason, maybe, but it didn’t change the fact that Danny, not Catherine, was the one who had come from half a world away to save Steve. Now, out of the blue, she was back with promises to stay, and Steve had decided he wanted to marry her. Danny had begged Steve to reconsider, but the SEAL wouldn’t budge. Then, Danny had gone to Catherine, asked her if she planned to stay. She said “There’s nothing I want more,” and Danny believed her, mostly. He just couldn’t help a niggling feeling that there was something more behind Catherine’s words.

 

Danny could it admit it was more than Steve’s well-being that concerned him. While Catherine had been gone, it was just Danny and Steve, no Catherine hanging around or popping in to take up Steve’s time. They’d grown closer, and Danny started to hope that maybe there was more than friendship between them. Intellectually, Danny knew that was highly unlikely—witness the lovely Catherine who apparently still held Steve’s heart even after a year-long absence—but the seemingly innocent touches, the time spent together out behind Steve’s house or sitting way too close for friends on his couch made Danny start to dream. He could see he and Steve like that long-term, growing old together, sitting on the beach or on the couch when they were both retired, still inseparable. There was even a small part of Danny that thought maybe, someday, _he’d_ be the one Steve asked to marry him.

 

Then Catherine came back and dashed even those faint hopes to pieces, and Danny decided, if he couldn’t have Steve, he’d at least make sure Steve was happy. Sure, some of his arguments against Steve proposing to Catherine were selfish, but Danny honestly didn’t want to see Steve making a mistake, and he just wasn’t sure about Catherine’s intentions. That’s why Danny talked to her directly; he wanted to make sure  she didn’t stomp all over Steve’s heart again. She’d said she wouldn’t, well, implied it, anyway, but Danny still wasn’t sure. All he could do was be supportive of Steve and hope he was wrong.

 

After Steve’s truck disappeared, Danny went home to drown his sorrows. He put on his rattiest, comfiest sweats and t-shirt, turned out all the lights, got a glass and the bottle of bourbon he kept for times like these, sat on the couch, and got ready to drink himself into oblivion. Danny was only halfway through his first glass when the phone rang. He checked the caller ID. Steve. Probably calling to tell him Catherine had accepted. Danny seriously considered ignoring the call, but that wouldn’t be fair to Steve, and Danny really was happy for Steve. At least someone got to marry the person of their dreams.

 

“Hey, Steve? How’d it go?” Danny asked. He knew the answer, of course. Of course, Catherine said yes. Who wouldn’t want to marry Steve? “Congratulations,” was forming on Danny’s lips when Steve spoke.

 

“She’s gone, Danny.”

 

“What?” Deep down, Danny couldn’t say he was surprised, but he was still upset for Steve’s sake. How dare that bitch come back, get Steve’s hopes up, then take off again just like that. “Did she give you a reason?”

 

“She said she needed space, needed to find herself. She’s going to help earthquake victims in Nepal,” Steve said, a quiver in his voice.

 

“Did she say when she’d be back?” Maybe this was just temporary. Maybe she’d go, find herself, come back, and marry Steve like he deserved.

 

A sob escaped Steve. “I don’t think she’s coming back this time. Danny, what am I going to do? I loved her. I was going to spend the rest of my life with her.”

 

Danny’s heart broke for Steve. “ That sucks, babe. I was really hoping I was wrong.”

 

“You’re going to say I told you so, aren’t you?” Steve said, bitterly.

 

Danny pushed aside the part that wanted to do just that, along with the side that thought that with Catherine gone, Danny might have a chance. He had no business thinking those things. This was about Steve. “No, babe,” Danny said. “I really hoped I was wrong. You don’t know how badly I hoped that. I even asked Catherine if she was going to stay, and she said she wanted to.”

 

“Well, she lied,” Steve said, voice filled with anguish. “I can’t believe she left me, again.”

 

“I can’t, either,” Danny said, sincerely. “I’ll be right there.” He didn’t bother to ask if Steve wanted company; his best friend, the love of his life even if Steve didn’t know it, was hurting, and it was up to Danny to pick up the pieces.

 

Danny contemplated bringing the bottle of bourbon, but it was only three-quarters full, and he had a feeling they’d need a whole bottle, maybe two. Danny stopped at a liquor store on the way and was letting himself into Steve’s house 20 minutes later.

 

Steve was sitting in the dark on the couch, a bottle of bourbon and a half-full glass already in front of him. It reminded Danny a lot of how he planned to spend the evening, and his heart wrenched. Steve didn’t deserve this. He should be celebrating, not mourning. 

 

Without a word, Danny sat down next to Steve and gathered the SEAL in his arms. Steve buried his face in Danny’s shoulder and started sobbing. Danny just held him, rubbing Steve’s back soothingly and making comforting noises.

 

Danny wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Eventually, Steve pulled back, eyes red-rimmed, tears still staining his cheeks. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt, and Danny tamped down his disgust. “She left, Danny,” Steve moaned.

 

“I know,” Danny said.

 

“Everybody leaves,” Steve wailed, the tears starting again. Danny gathered the other man in his arms again. “Catherine left, Mom left, Mary left, everybody leaves me. I’ m always going to be alone.”

 

Danny stroked Steve’s hair. “No, babe, no you won’t. I’m not leaving. I will never leave you.” Danny meant it with every fiber of his being.

 

“You don’t know that,” Steve sniffled.

 

“I do know it,” Danny insisted. “There is nothing I can imagine that would make me leave you.”

 

“Even Grace?” Steve asked.

 

Steve would hit the one thing that meant more to him than Steve. “Grace isn’t leaving. Rachel already tried that. She’s here to stay, and so am I.”

 

Steve turned hopeful eyes on Danny. “Will you grow old with me, Danny? Will you be there when I’m hurt? Will you go to sleep with me every night, wake up with me every morning? Will you, Danny?”

 

Danny knew it was just the hurt talking, but he still answered, emphatically, “Yes, Steve, I will.”

 

Steve dropped his eyes and sniffled again. “Not like I want you to.”

 

Danny’s heart leaped. Maybe he had a chance, if he could just convince Steve. “Yes, babe, how you want me to, anyway you want me to.”

 

Steve shook his head. “No. You wouldn’t marry me if I asked you to.”

 

Danny took Steve’s chin in his hand and lifted Steve’s head so they were looking in each other’s eyes. He had to make Steve see he meant it, that he  _ would _ marry Steve if he asked. “Steve,” Danny said, sincerely, “I would be honored to marry you.”

 

Steve’s eyes were filled with wonder. “You really mean that.”

 

Danny knew Steve was fragile right now, knew this wasn’t the time for anything physical, but he couldn’t resist planting a soft, chaste kiss on Steve’s lips. “Yes, Steven, I really mean it.”

 

Steve nodded and cuddled into Danny’s chest. “Thank you, Danny.”

 

“Anytime, Steve.” Danny dropped a kiss on the top of Steve’s head. “Now, come on. Let’s get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

 

Steve nodded but didn’t move. “Will you stay with me?”

 

“Of course,” Danny said.

 

“Not on the couch,” Steve said. “In my bed. With me.”

 

“Of course,” Danny repeated. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

 

“ I’ll let you for the rest of my life,” Steve said. He rose, and Danny stood as well. 

 

Danny moved towards the stairs, but Steve just stood there. “You coming, babe?”

 

Steve looked lost standing there, like he wasn’t sure this was real. “Is this really happening?”

 

Danny moved back to Steve and put his arms around the SEAL. He gave Steve another small kiss. “Yeah, babe, this is really happening. We have a lot to talk about, but we’ll deal with that in the morning. For now, let’s just sleep.”

 

Steve let Danny lead him to the stairs and into the bed room. They got into bed. Steve snuggled close to Danny, resting his head on Danny’s chest, and Danny put his arms around him.  The detective felt a surge of protectiveness as he held Steve tight.  _ Screw you, Catherine, _ he thought.  _ You had your chance. Steve’s mine, now, and I’m never letting him go _ . That was a promise Danny fully intended to keep.


	25. Celebrity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're famous, you can get away with anything.
> 
> Song: Celebrity  
> Artist: Brad Paisley  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I finished this Sunday and apparently forgot to post. Sorry!

The man at the head of the line spat out his coffee. “What is this swill? I asked for a no-foam, extra-hot, soy vanilla latte. This definitely has whole milk, it’s practically cold, and there’s not enough vanilla. You’re supposed to actually put the syrup in the cup, not just wave it in the general vicinity.”

 

The barista flushed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sir. We’ll fix that right away. On the house.”

 

“You better,” the guy muttered. He didn’t move.

 

“Um, sir?” the barista said, timidly. “Could you maybe move to the side so I can help the people behind you?”

 

The man scowled. “I’ll move when I have my coffee.”

 

“Uh, right.” The barista raised his voice and addressed the other customers in line. “Sorry, folks, it’ll be just a few minutes.”

 

“Can you believe this guy?” Mac asked Jack from where they were standing a few customers back.

 

Jack had a look of awe on his face. “Mac, do you know who that is?”

 

“A total asshole?” Mac said.

 

“No,” Jack said, practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s the star of Annaheim Antics!”

 

“Never heard of it,” Mac said.

 

Jack looked amazed. “You haven’t? It’s the best new comedy on cable, 10 pm Saturday nights.”

 

“I try to be doing other things at that time,” Mac said. “Usually with you. I don’t know how you even have time to watch it.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Jack said. “I DVR it. Wow, I can’t believe I get coffee at the same place he does.”

 

“He doesn’t have to be so rude about it,” Mac grumbled.

 

“He’s a celebrity,” Jack defended the man, as if that explained everything.

 

Not to Mac. “That’s no excuse.”

 

“Sure it is,” Jack said. “Celebrities are special. They can get away with anything. I wish I were a celebrity.”

 

Mac snorted at the thought. “You? I can’t see you as the star of a television series.”

 

Jack looked wounded. “Hey, I’m a great actor. My undercover skills are unparalleled.”

 

Jack had a point, but Mac wasn’t going to admit it. “Yeah, but I can’t see you actually sticking to a script.”

 

Jack would give Mac that one. “Reality shows, then. You don’t need talent.”

 

“Unless your going to be on American Idol,” Mac said. “Which I also don’t see you on.”

 

Once again, Jack looked hurt. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m a karaoke champion in four states.”

 

“I still haven’t seen any proof,” Mac said.

 

“Okay, Survivor, then,” Jack said. “I’d totally rock on Survivor.”

 

Yeah, he probably would, Mac thought. He wasn’t going to give Jack the satisfaction of saying it, though. “Why do you want to be famous, anyway?”

 

“Because then I could do whatever I want, and no one would care,” Jack said as if it were obvious.

 

“Jack, you’re not like that,” Mac said.

 

“But I could be if I wanted to,” Jack insisted. “Just think, every time I caused a scandal, I’d just get more popular.”

 

“Aren’t you popular enough as it is?” Mac joked, trying to make light of the conversation.

 

“Well, I am a pretty popular guy,” Jack said with his trademark cockiness, “but if I were famous, everybody would like me. Women would be falling at my feet.”

 

“You seem to do okay,” Mac pointed out.

 

Jack looked sad for a moment. “With one night stands, maybe. But celebrities aren’t expected to have serious relationships.”

 

Mac didn’t want to think of a famous Jack. The thought was positively horrifying. Mac loved Jack to pieces, but his ego was big enough as it was; he certainly didn’t need it stroked. Plus, Mac couldn’t stand the thought of his loyal, caring, self-sacrificing best friend turning into a cold-hearted jerk like the guy ahead of them. Mac shuddered at the concept. “Honestly, Jack, I like you just the way you are.”

 

A grin lit up Jack’s face. “You do? Really?”

 

“Yeah, Jack,” Mac said, nodding emphatically. “Do me a favor. Don’t ever change.”


	26. Addicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissa can finally admit this thing with Danny just isn't working out.
> 
> Song: Addicted  
> Artist: Dan Seals  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Paring: Danny/Melissa, McDanno  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a song I'd planned a story around quite awhile ago; it just screamed Melissa/Danny at me. I'm rather proud of it. Hope you like it as much as I do!

**Addicted**

**By**

**St. Bridget**

 

“Hey, Melissa,” Danny said when she picked up the phone, “I’m glad I caught you.”

 

“Hi, Danny, what’s up?” Melissa tried to keep her voice light, but she braced herself for what she knew was coming. It was never good news when Danny called her these days. If she was lucky, he’d just be working late on a case and couldn’t come over like he’d promised. That would be okay. Melissa didn’t like it, but it was part of the job, and she accepted it. If she wasn’t lucky, he’d be calling to cancel their plans for another reason.

 

“Melissa, I know I said I’d come over tonight, but we just wrapped up a case, and I’m beat,” Danny said.

 

“It’s okay, I understand,” Melissa managed to choke out around the lump in her throat. She did understand, really, she did, but it was never just going home to crash. She waited for the rest of it.

 

“I’m just going over to Steve’s, kick back, and have a few beers. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Sure,” Melissa said, trying to keep the tears that suddenly welled up from falling. She knew it would be something like this. It always was.

 

Melissa heard a voice in the background. Steve, probably. “Just a second, babe, I’m almost done,” Danny yelled. He didn’t say Steve’s name, but she knew from the endearment it was Steve. Danny never called her “babe,” at least, not recently. “So, we’re okay?” Danny asked Melissa.

 

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Melissa said, hoping her disappointment didn’t show in her voice. “So, when will I see you?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Danny said. “I have the kids tomorrow, and I promised them we’d go to Steve’s.”

 

Of course he did. It’s not like Danny would ask Melissa to hang out with them. She wasn’t bitter, no, of course not. Melissa had met his kids, sure, but mostly Danny’s time with her and Danny’s time with them were separate. That definitely wasn’t the case when it came to Steve, though.

 

“This weekend, then?” Melissa said, hopefully.

 

“I can’t,” Danny said. “The governor’s sending Steve and I to a conference on the mainland. We leave Friday. Won’t be back until next weekend, and I have the kids.” Danny didn’t even have the decency to sound apologetic that he was taking off with practically no warning. That would be another week Melissa wouldn’t see him. “I’ll call when I get back, okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Melissa said, because what choice did she have? “Have a good time with Steve.”

 

“I will,” Danny said. “Talk to you later, Melissa.”

 

And, that was it. No “I miss”, no “I love you”, not even a “babe”, despite the fact that that was supposedly a Jersey thing, and he called everyone babe. Not her. And five years in, he still couldn’t say he loved her. But Steve was always babe, and Danny always said he loved Steve. What did Steve have Melissa didn’t?

 

That was easy: Danny’s heart. Oh, it wasn’t like Danny cheated on Melissa with Steve; Danny was too much of a gentleman for that, past mistakes with Rachel aside. Melissa wasn’t even sure Danny knew he was in love with Steve, but it was plain as day to Melissa. Maybe there was a time Melissa ranked higher than Steve in Danny’s affections, but definitely not now.

 

With her evening plans out the window, Melissa did what any self-respecting woman in love with a man who no longer loved her would do: she put on an old t-shirt of Danny’s, dug the rocky road she kept for occasions like this out of her freezer (it was almost empty. What did that say about the state of her love life?), curled up on the couch, wrapped herself up in the afghan her grandma had crocheted her, cued up a rom com on Netflix, and wallowed in self-pity.

 

Why did she do this to herself? Melissa wondered. In the beginning, it had been easy. They’d been swept up in the elation of finding someone else from the east coast, and they’d gotten along like a house aflame. Melissa thought Danny was her second chance—she could reinvent herself with Danny, be anyone she wanted, be loved.

 

It had been great for awhile. Then, there was that disastrous weekend trip where Melissa’s ex had stabbed Danny, and she’d run the bastard over. Her back story came out, and that changed everything. Danny seemed to take it in stride, but Melissa knew that put distance between them, and she didn’t think that gap had ever closed, even years later.

 

That was also about the time of the incident with Reyes. Melissa knew something was wrong, but Danny didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t find out the truth until Danny was arrested and extradited to Colombia. Even then, Chin had told her, not Danny. And Danny had never talked about his time in the Colombian jail, hadn’t even called her until the bruises healed. He talked to Steve, though. Okay, to be fair, Steve with his military background was probably far more able to empathize, but it still hurt that Danny didn’t talk to her.

 

Melissa wondered, not for the first time, not even for the first time that week, why she was still with Danny. Any other woman, any other _stronger_ woman, would have walked away that fateful Valentine’s Day when he couldn’t say “I love you,” but she’d stuck it out, and here she was, several years later, still waiting to hear it. Hadn’t she punished herself enough? Apparently not. It was just like being with her ex-husband. No, Danny wasn’t abusive—he was the kindest, sweetest, most thoughtful man she knew—but Melissa was still hanging on even when she knew she should leave. Co-dependent, that’s what her psychologist said. Not an addict, but close enough, and Danny was her drug.

 

Halfway through the second movie, ice cream gone, Melissa made up her mind. She checked the time; it was late enough that Danny would probably be home by now, but not so late that he’d be asleep. She steeled her resolve. Might as well get it over with. It would probably be better to wait until they saw each other face to face, but Melissa wouldn’t see Danny for at least a week, and if she waited that long, who knew how much longer she’d put herself through this misery? She hit dial.

 

“Hey, Melissa, I didn’t expect to hear from you. I told you I’d call you tomorrow,” Danny said when he answered. The tone wasn’t unfriendly, but it wasn’t friendly, either. Well, tough. Melissa was going to do this no matter what.

 

Melissa took a deep breath to gather her courage. “We need to talk.”

 

“Can’t it wait?” Danny asked. “It’s late, and I’m tired.”

 

“No, Danny, it can’t wait,” Melissa said, firmly. “If I wait, I’m not going to do this.”

 

“Do what?” Danny said.

 

Melissa heard a voice asking Danny something. Damn, he was still at Steve’s. “Are you alone?”

 

“Just a sec.” Danny’s voice was muted as he spoke to someone on the other end, no doubt Steve. “I’ve gotta take this, babe. It’ll just be a few minutes. No, I don’t know what’s up, but she sounds upset.” Then, there was the sound of a sliding glass door. Melissa knew he’d stepped out on the lanai. “Okay, I’m alone. What’s so important?”

 

This was it:  the moment of truth. “I don’t think we  sh ould see each other anymore.”

 

“That’s what this is about?” Danny said, incredulous. “You called me up this late to break up with me? Over the phone? Couldn’t you at least wait until we saw each other?”

 

“And when is that going to be, Danny?” she asked. Danny was silent. “That’s what I thought,” Melissa said.

 

“Is this about tonight?” Danny said. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. After I get back, we’ll take a weekend, go to Maui or somewhere. Anywhere you want, just the two of us. I’ll even turn off my phone.”

 

“Yeah, ‘cause that worked out so well the last time,” Melissa said, bitterly. Good. Maybe if she stayed bitter, she wouldn’t cry.

 

“Look, Melissa, you’re upset. You’re not thinking straight. Let’s talk about this tomorrow. We can do lunch,” Danny said. It sounded normal, though, not pleading, like it was just any old day they were talking about doing lunch.

 

“Actually, Danny, I think I’m thinking clearly for the first time in almost five years,” Melissa said. To her surprise, she found she was calm, sure of herself, the desire to cry gone.

 

“Melissa, please,” Danny said. He still wasn’t begging, though. That was good—Melissa wasn’t sure she could stay strong if he begged. “I care about you, very much. I want to make this work.”

 

“But you don’t love me,” Melissa said, bitterly.

 

“That’s not true,” Danny protested, but it was weak.

 

“Yeah, it is true,” Melissa said. “But there is somebody you do love.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Danny asked, confused. “There’s no one else.”

 

“Yeah, there is,” Melissa said. “Steve.”

 

“Is that what you think? Melissa, there’s nothing between Steve and I,” Danny said.

 

“I know,” she said, “but there should be.”

 

“What?” She’d caught him off guard again. Good.

 

“Look, Danny,” Melissa said, “you love Steve, and Steve loves you. It’s obvious to everyone except the two of you.”

 

Danny sighed. “How did this go from you breaking up with me to being about me and Steve?”

 

“Because it’s always been about you and Steve, don’t you see?” Melissa said. “You were meant for each other. It just took me this long to admit it. Now, you just need to admit it to yourself, and to Steve.”

 

Danny sighed again. “Okay, maybe you’re right,  _maybe,_ ” he stressed before Melissa could say anything. “What am I going to do about it?”

 

“Tell him, Danny,” Melissa said. “Tell him now.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Danny said.

 

“Don’t think about it, do it,” Melissa urged. “There’s no time like the present. I should know.”

 

“Okay, fine,” Danny said. “I’ll tell him. Thanks, Melissa. Take care of yourself. You do mean a lot to me, you know that.”

 

“I know,” she assured him. “It’s just, Steve means more. Take care of yourself, Danny. Take care of Steve.”

 

“I will,” Danny promised. The was a momentary pause. “I guess this is good-bye.”

 

“I guess it is.” Melissa thought this should be harder, but it was surprisingly easy. She knew she was doing the right thing. “Good-bye.” She hung up the phone and went back to her movie, feeling like she’d once again gotten herself away from a bad situation. _Melissa, girl, you’re on your own,_ she told herself. It felt pretty great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going so well until I hit the last week. Monday, I did fine, was even getting ahead of myself, and my computer crashed. Tuesday, I was bad and did what I was trying to avoid--made up a bad excuse not to write. The rest of the week, I was just too busy. I'm back to it now, though, and I promise I will finish this, no matter how long it takes! Definitely aiming for before Christmas, though!


	27. I'm Still a Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it comes down to it, Jack Dalton is still a guy.
> 
> Song: I'm Still a Guy  
> Artist: Brad Paisley  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: MacDalton  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of got fixated on the "knock some guy to the ground," part. Clearly, Jack. I thought about writing the bar fight, but I've done that, and that really wasn't what the story's about.

“Hey, watch it!” Mac managed to steer Jack to the side just before he collided with the door frame. Jack’s black eye was spectacular enough without adding to it. Mac had managed to keep Jack from colliding with the door of the bar and the car door (in and out, thank you very much)--he wasn’t going to blow it now.

 

Mac managed to get Jack settled on the couch without the older man bumping into anything, though the coffee table was a close call. Mac went into the kitchen and found the battered bag of frozen peas they kept in the freezer precisely for these situations. Well, not precisely these situations; they were intended for bumps and bruises acquired on the job, not in stupid bar fights.

 

Mac went back into the living room and tossed Jack the bag of peas. “Here, put this on it.”

 

Jack caught the bag easily even with the use of only one eye. He placed it on his swollen eye and sighed. “Ah, much better.”

 

Mac sat on the couch and fit himself under Jack’s arm, laying his head on Jack’s chest and listening to his lover’s strong, steady heartbeat. It’s not like Jack was seriously injured, but there had been enough close calls that Mac needed the reassurance even with just some simple bruising. “I can’t believe you got in a bar fight,” Mac said.

 

“He slapped your ass!” Jack defended himself. “What was I supposed to do?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mac said. “Ignore it?”

 

“I can’t ignore it! If someone hits on my boyfriend, I’m honor bound to defend him. It’s the my duty as a guy,” Jack said.

 

“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Mac said.

 

“He most certainly did,” Jack said. “Who knows what he would have done if I hadn’t hit him?”

 

“Probably nothing,” Mac said, “and if he did, I’m more than capable of defending myself.”

 

“Still, it’s the principle of the matter,” Jack insisted. “I have to defend what’s mine.”

 

Mac sighed. It was just the way Jack was—fiercely loyal, protective, and prone to talking with his fists. Mac would just have to live with it. Still. . .”You could have been arrested.”

 

“Woulda been worth it,” Jack said. “I’ve been held prisoner is some pretty miserable places. The LA jail is nothing.”

 

“That’s not the point,” Mac said. “The point is, you shouldn’t go doing things that could get you arrested or injured.”

 

“It’s only a black eye,” Jack protested. “You should see the other guy.

 

It was true. Jack had broken his nose before knocking him unconscious. “Yeah, but it could have been worse,” Mac said.

 

“Nah, the guy couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag,” Jack said.

 

“He gave you a black eye,” Mac pointed out.

 

“Lucky shot,” Jack said.

 

Mac sighed again. “You really need to learn to stop talking with your fists.”

 

Jack lowered the bag of peas and faced Mac. “I know, but that’s what I do. I protect you, and I do it by beating up anyone who gets in our way,” Jack said, earnestly.

 

“Not off the job!” Mac said.

 

“Yeah, off the job, too,” Jack said. “I can’t help it. I don’t want to see you get hurt, physically or otherwise. Laying aside the fact that it’s my job, it’s who I am.”

 

“Couldn’t you be a little less you?” Mac asked.

 

“I’ll try,” Jack said, “but it’s hard. You may be okay with all this touchy-feely, talking, modern crap, but I’m a 40-something redneck from Texas. It’s just not my style.”

 

“But you’re so much more than that,” Mac insisted. “Look how far you’ve come.”

 

“Just because you’ve gotten me to dress in a tux and go to galas when I’m not undercover trying to get intel and taken me to art galleries and stuff doesn’t mean I’m not still Jack Dalton, redneck. I hunt, I fish, and I get into bar fights. I am who I am, Mac, and nothing’s going to fundamentally change that,” Jack said, seriously.

 

“I know,” Mac said. “And I wouldn’t want you to, really. I love you, I truly do, opinionated knuckle-dragger that you are.” They both grinned at the reference to their first meeting. “It’s just, sometimes it gets a little. . .annoying.”

 

Jack cupped Mac’s chin, stroking softly with his thumb. “You know I’d do anything for you,” Jack said, “and that includes defending your honor, whether I need to or not. I love you, Mac, so much. I just can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you or even doing something that makes you uncomfortable. You’re the sweetest, kindest, gentlest man I know, and I just see red when someone tries to take advantage of that.”

 

Mac leaned into Jack’s touch. “And then you go and say things like that, and I forget all the stupid, chauvinistic things you do and just melt. Why do you have to be so complicated, Jack?” There was no heat in Mac’s words, though.

 

Jack leaned in to kiss Mac, but with his black eye his aim was off a little, and they bumped noses. They both laughed softly before Jack adjusted and managed to land a soft kiss on Mac’s lips. “I’m not complicated, Mac. It’s simple, really. I’m a guy. Sappy words aside, that’s all it comes down to.”

 

Mac let out a contented noise and snuggled further into Jack’s chest. “And honestly, at the end of the day, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	28. Remember the Alamo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack takes Mac to meet his relatives--all of them. They have different ideas about what this means.
> 
> Song: Remember the Alamo  
> Artist: Kingston Trio  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: MacDalton  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another hard one. All I could come up with was touring the ruins. I actually thought of Steve and Danny first, but it soon became apparent it had to involve Jack. I thought of doing little Jack enacting the battle, but I couldn't really get a good sense of Kid!Jack, and I already did a young Jack (Start a Band). So, I got to thinking about being related to folks from the Alamo, and this was born.

 

 

“. . .and they were all killed, every last one,” Jack’s. . .aunt? Yeah, definitely an aunt, although Mac had lost track of which side of the family and how many greats—he thought there were at least a couple in there, but he wasn’t sure--wound down. “But General Travis died a Hero in the War for Independence, and we Harts”--that answered the question of which side of the family--”are mighty proud to be direct descendents of his.”

 

Mac let out a sigh of relief. Thank god; she was finally done. Mac wasn’t sure how long she’d been rambling on about her ancestor General Travis and the battle of the Alamo. He snuck a look at his watch. Forty-five minutes. Wow, that was pretty impressive for a battle that generally didn’t rate more than a paragraph in the history books, if that. Mac placed his hands on the sofa he was sitting on, struggling to rise out of the pillowly depths. Good grief, the sofa was trying to eat him alive. Mac had almost managed to right himself when the aunt tugged on his arm, sending Mac crashing back down into the cushions. She flipped a page in the book she was holding and stabbed her finger at what Mac swore was the hundredth black-and-white picture of a man in a uniform—no doubt another relative. Mac couldn’t hold back a low groan. Please, god, don’t let this one take another 45 minutes, he prayed.

 

Mac was saved by a large hand clapping down on his shoulder. “There you are, Mac,” Jack said, coming up behind Mac in that silent way he had. “I have someone I want you to meet.” He came around the sofa and offered a hand to Mac, pulling him out of the man-eating piece of furniture. “Come on.”

 

Mac dutifully followed his partner, his relief at Jack’s appearance short-lived. “Another relative? Jack, buddy, I love you, and I love your family, but I’m not sure I can handle any more aunts.” Had he really said I love you? Whoops. Hopefully, Jack would take it to mean just friends. I mean, Jack said it all the time and didn’t mean anything by it, right? Just because Mac very carefully never said it back didn’t mean he _couldn’t_ right? Who was he kidding? Mac was so screwed.

 

Jack either didn’t pick up on Mac’s slip or didn’t care.  _Whew, dodged a bullet there,_ Mac thought. Jack chuckled. “Great Aunt Martha giving you an earful? Which ancestor was she going on about this time?”

 

“General Travis,” Mac said. “For 45 minutes. I didn’t know anyone could talk about the Alamo that long. I mean, it wasn’t even a major battle.”

 

Jack looked mock-horrified. “Bite your tongue! The Alamo’s might y important to us Texans. Remember the Alamo! Every Texan worth his salt is related to either General Travis or General Houston, or, if you’re really lucky, both.”

 

“So, General Travis was really your great, great, whatever grandfather?” Mac asked.

 

Jack grinned and leaned in towards Mac, confidentially. “Nah, we’re really related to some private who died a sad, unlamented death and was buried in a mass grave. But it sounds a hell of a lot more romantic to say we’re descended from the general himself.”

Mac laughed. “That it does. So, who do you want me to meet this time?” Mac hoped Jack wasn’t going to quiz him on all the people he’d met today. The Daltons were a big clan; Mac had gone to conventions with fewer people.

 

“My cousin,” Jack said. 

 

Mac perked up. “The one you stole the body with?” This could be good.

 

“That’s the one,” Jack confirmed. “He was my best friend growing up. Man, did we have some good times.” Jack got a wistful look on his face as he thought about his childhood. 

 

“I can’t wait.” He really couldn’t. Mac really hoped he’d get to hear some of those stories. He’d gotten an earful from Jack’s mom, but Mac knew those weren’t the really good ones—only someone like a cousin would know all the ones about all the hell Little Jack raised.

 

“You’re going to love him,” Jack assured Mac, “and he’s going to love you. Not as much as I do. No one could love you more than I do.”

 

See, that was what Mac meant. Those words slipped so easily off  Jack’s tongue. Too bad he didn’t mean them like Mac wanted him to. Sure, they were friends with benefits, had been for the last  year,  but that was all they were, no matter how much Mac wanted it to be more.

 

Jack led them up to a group of men playing basketball and waved one of them over. The man came readily. He was broad-shouldered and well-muscled, a lot like Jack, but his reddish hair was shaggy, almost shoulder length, and his beard was just as red and just a s shaggy. Jack put his arm around the man. “Mac, this is my favorite cousin.” The arm moved to drape across Mac’s shoulders, warm, comfortable, familiar, like it belonged there. Mac had to stop thinking like that. “Coz, this is my partner, Mac.”

 

“Work partner,” Mac clarified, reaching out his hand. Jack’s cousin shook it in a firm grip, hands rough and callused, probably from working on a ranch. Jack had said most of his family were ranchers.

 

“And life partner,” Jack added.

 

Mac couldn’t be hearing this right. “Aren’t you exaggerating a little?” he said, trying to laugh it off, trying to ignore how his heart thudded at the words.

 

“Well, I’d like to think so,” Jack said. “I mean, we’ve been dating for over a year.”

 

“Yeah, but not seriously,” Mac said. “I mean, we’re just friends with benefits.”

 

Jack’s cousin pumped the air in victory. “Hah, I told Kyle you were full of it when you talked about having a boyfriend. You just don’t want my Mom setting you up with my sister’s friend Katie, the one who just got divorced.”

 

“Nah, man, I’m serious,” Jack insisted. “Tell him, Mac.”

 

Mac was feeling confused. Jack sure sounded sincere,  but he had to be messing with Mac. “Um, sure, I guess, if you say so,” was the best Mac could come up with.

 

Jack’s cousin guffawed. “Shoulda got your stories straight before you came, Jackie-boy. Your friend there sold you out.”

 

“Could you give us a minute?” Jack said. He drew Mac to the side. “Mac, darlin’, what’s with you? Why don’t you want to tell my family we’re dating? Are you ashamed or something? If so, you gotta tell me, because I thought things were going good.”

 

“They are,” Mac assured him.

 

Jack looked relieved. “Okay, good. So, what’s wrong, then? There must be some reason you want to keep us secret.”

 

“No, no,” Mac said. “I just didn’t think there was anything to keep secret. We hang out, we have sex, that’s all there is to it. It’s not like we have a lifetime commitment.”

 

Jack’s face fell. “Well, if that’s what you think, then I guess I was wrong.”

 

Mac was now totally lost. “Wrong about what.”

 

Jack looked genuinely hurt. “I thought we had something,” he said. “Something good. That’s why I wanted you to meet my family, so I could show you off.”

 

Mac’s mouth went dry. “It is?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Jack said, as if it were obvious. It might be, but not to Mac. “Why else would I ask you to my family reunion?”

 

Mac really hadn’t thought much about it. “I thought you felt sorry for me after the whole thing with my father and finding out my life was a lie.”

 

“Well, yeah, that’s part of it,” Jack admitted. “You seemed so hurt and lonely, I wanted to show you you had a family. I want you to think of it as _our_ family.”

 

“Because you think of me as a brother,” Mac said, flatly. He still wasn’t letting himself believe Jack was serious—it was too good to be true. Mac didn’t get good things; everyone left him after a while, and Jack would be no different.

 

Jack made a face. “Ew, that’s gross. I wouldn’t sleep with my brother. I’d sleep with my boyfriend.”

 

Mac let the hope  bleed  through, just a little. He still wasn’t sure, though. “But you never say I love you.”

 

Jack looked bemused. “What do you mean? I say it all the time. I just said it a few minutes ago.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s always ‘you saved my life, I love you’ or ‘get me a beer, I love you’,” Mac said. “Not ‘I love you, I love you’.”

 

“I say it when we’re intimate, too,” Jack said.

 

“No, you say ‘I love what you do with your tongue’ or ‘I love the sounds you make’.”

 

Jack contemplated that. “Huh. I guess you’re right. I meant ‘I love you, I love you’.”

 

The hope blossomed a little more. Maybe, just maybe, Jack loved him, too. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Jack assured him. “Mac, maybe I didn’t make myself clear, but you’re the love of my life, and I want to spend the rest of it with you. In fact, if this went well, I was going to propose. I have the ring and everything.”

 

Mac was floored. “Really? You’re that serious about us?”

 

“Yeah, I’m that serious.” Jack took Mac’s hands in his and got down on one knee. “I was planning to do this back in LA over a romantic meal, which you know I don’t do for just anybody, you know I suck at things like that, but I’ll go all out for you, but since it came up, I might as well do it now. Mac, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. When I met you in the sandbox, all I could think about was how many days I had left until I got back to Texas. I never thought I’d find anything more important than that, but I did. I found this scrawny kid genius who thought he was better than the rest of us, and before I knew it, I couldn’t imagine my life without him. It’s been a hell of an eight years, and I want it to be as many more as we have left. Angus MacGyver, will you do the honor of marrying me?”

 

Tears sprang to Mac’s eyes. This was more than he’d dared dream of, even in his  wildest dreams . “Yes, Jack, yes!” He tugged Jack to his feet and threw himself into  the other man’s arms, kissing Jack fiercely. It was sloppy in his enthusiasm, but to Mac, it was the best kiss ever.

 

Jack wrapped his arms tightly around Mac. “Now, wasn’t that worth Great Aunt Martha’s lecture?” Jack said when they finally pulled apart for air.

 

“Absolutely not,” Mac said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care what happens on the show; Jack will never leave Mac, and they'll live happily ever after.


	29. You Look So Good in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At her wedding, Sarah realizes what she missed with Jack.
> 
> Song: You Look So Good in Love  
> Artist: George Strait  
> Fandom: MacGyver  
> Pairing: MacDalton  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could as easily have been through Catherine's eyes, but I've been tending towards MacDalton, so I chose Sarah's instead. Besides, we already got to see Steve and Danny through Melissa's eyes.

He came. Sarah spotted Jack as soon as she started down the aisle. He was sitting about halfway back. As Sarah walked by, he gave her one of those funny crooked smiles of his that never failed to make her heart flutter. _Stop that_ , she admonished herself. _You’re about to get married. This is the happiest day of your life. No use thinking about might have beens._ Sarah was happy, ecstatically so, but last night on the balcony all those old hopes and dreams came flooding back, and just for a moment, Sarah thought they were in her grasp.  Just for a moment, she wanted them, wanted Jack, just like she had years ago.

 

Sarah smiled back as she walked past. She noticed Mac was with Jack, hand lightly holding the older man’s, no doubt grounding him. It seemed like a tender gesture, so much more than a friend. Sarah tamped down a rush of jealousy. It was completely irrational, she knew.  _She_ was the one getting married, not Jack, and if Jack wanted to bring Mac as his +1, if Mac really  _was_ his +1  in life as well as work , that was none of Sarah’s business.  S he was happy for Jack, really.

 

Sarah reached the altar where her soon to be husband was waiting for her, a look of pure love in his eyes. She turned her smile on him, genuine warmth and love spilling from her.  Never mind what she’d lost, what she’d never had in the first place.  She had this. This was the man she was going to marry. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. This was her future; there was no sense dwelling on the past.

 

“Does any man or woman know of any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony?” the preacher intoned. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 

Sarah turned towards the gathered guests, eyes seeking out and meeting Jack’s. Just for a moment she feared (hoped?) he would say something, but the moment passed. Sarah smiled at Jack, equal parts relieved and disappointed.

 

The ceremony finished, and Sarah was swept into a kiss by her new husband. She let herself get lost in it. This was what it meant to be in love. This was what she wanted, and she would never let it go.  The past was the past, and no matter how much it creeped up on her, tempting her, it should stay there.

 

The couple walked up the aisle arm in arm and took their place at the head of the receiving line. Guests filed by  giving their well-wishes. Soon, it was Jack’s turn. He came up to them and grasped Sarah’s hands in both of his. “Congratulations!” Jack said, sincerely, kissing her cheek.

 

“Yeah, congratulations,” Mac echoed. Sarah couldn’t help but notice his hand was on Jack’s back, proprietorially. Jack either didn’t notice or didn’t mind; Sarah suspected the latter. They moved on, still joined, and Sarah turned her attention to the next in line.

 

Sarah couldn’t help but watch Jack and Mac for the rest of the night. They sat close together, arms around each other’s shoulders, hands brushing together or resting on a knee or thigh, forks extended to share bites of food. They looked natural together; they looked in love.  _I wonder if that’s what I look like_ , Sarah thought. She hoped so. She’d never seen that look on Jack’s face, not even directed at her. Sarah really regretted that. Mac was a lucky man.

 

Sarah was brought out of her thoughts by the best man announcing the first dance. Her husband held out his hand, and Sarah took it, smiling brightly at him. They made their way to the middle of the floor and slotted their bodies together, fitting together naturally. This felt so good, like they were meant for each other. Sarah shouldn’t be regretting things she’d never had in the first place  when she had this .  Even so, s he couldn’t help glancing over at Mac and Jack. Jack’s arm was slung casually around Mac, and Mac’s hand was on Jack’s knee. All their attention was focused on her, but their bodies spoke of how aware of each other they were. Sarah wanted that. Hopefully, she’d found it.

 

Sarah let herself get swept up in the dance, her heart singing with the music. This was it, their first dance as a married couple. This was a memory she would treasure. One by one, other couples joined them on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack dance by, holding Mac much closer than strictly necessary. They were staring deeply into each other’s eyes, clearly oblivious to the world around them. Love practically radiated from them, spilling over  Sarah and warming her. It was good that Jack had someone to love him the way  Sarah loved her husband and the way her husband loved her. Sarah was overjoyed Jack had found that in Mac. After all, she’d found it, too.  That didn’t stop a stab of pain from shooting through her heart.

 

“You okay?” her husband asked softly.

 

She beamed up at him. “Yeah,” she said, leaning closer and laying her head on his chest. His heart beat steadily, just for her. “Yeah, I am.” With one last pang, she let go of everything she’d lost not seeing Jack looking at her the way he looked at Mac and lost herself in the feeling of the man who did.


	30. The Wizard of Macke Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, Steve's just as reckless in Dungeons and Dragons.
> 
> Song: Wizard of Macke Town  
> Artist: Bill Sutton  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard not to take literally and try to fit the characters into the scenario. So, I stepped back, and the idea of the characters in the story being Dungeons and Dragons characters was born.
> 
> This owes a lot of inspiration to FluffyHippogriff's Blame It On the Bard (Who Is Obviously Tony Stark) over in the Avengers fandom.

“It started in a tavern on the edge of Macke town,” Jerry intoned. “You enter to find it dark. A fire flickers dimly, but most of the tavern is in shadow. Townfolk fill the space, but one figure sits alone in the corner. Light frames him. You notice it’s the only light in the place other than the fire.”

 

“Does he look dangerous?” Steve asked.

 

“Steven!” Danny chided. “That’s Adam!”

 

“So?” Steve said. “Doesn’t mean he’s not a threat.”

 

“He’s part of our party!” Danny said.

 

“Oh, right,” Steve said.

 

Danny looked like he was going to continue, but Jerry broke in. “You approach the man,” he continued. He turned to Adam. “You see a party approaching. It’s a motley crew. There’s a half-elf in clerical robes, a man and a dwarf bristling with weapons, and in the dim light you can just make out the form of a halfling dressed all in back lurking close to the human, nearly hidden by his bulk.”

 

“I address them,” Adam said. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

 

Unsurprisingly, Danny spoke for the party. “I am Davmorn.” He gestured at Steve, Junior, and Tani in turn. “These are my companions, Marros, Jamril, and Thorhand. We thought you might need some instance.”

 

“I do, in fact,” Adam said. “I am Norvand Armorsmith, the blacksmith’s son. I have been cursed with mysterious powers. I believe it is the fault of a sorceror who murdered the town baron. The townsfolk suspect I did it and would like to see me dead.”

 

“You notice the townsfolk are eyeing you suspiciously,” Jerry said. “The crowd starts muttering, and a group of burly, clearly drunk men approaches the table. They form a circle and loom threateningly.”

 

“I punch the closest one,” Steve said.

 

“Steven!” Danny exclaimed. “You can’t just go randomly throwing punches.”

 

“It’s not random,” Steve protested. “They’re going to kill Adam.”

 

“You don’t know that!”

 

“’Die, Wizard,’ the largest of the group, who appears to be the leader, snarls,” Jerry said.

 

“Pretty sure, Danno,” Steve said.

 

Danny was undaunted. “That doesn’t mean you have to attack them!”

 

“What else am I supposed to do?” Steve wanted to know.

 

“Talk to them!” Danny yelled.

 

“The nearest thug takes a swing at Davmorn,” Jerry said. He rolled the dice. “His fists connects with your jaw and sends you reeling into the table.”

 

“Don’t think that’s going to work, Danny,” Steve said. “I take a swing at the guy who hit Danny.” He rolled the dice.

 

“You miss,” Jerry said. “The guy evades your fist and throws a punch of his own.” More rolling dice. “He hits you square in the eye.”

 

“So help me, Steven, if I have to heal you before we even get started, I’m going to kill you myself,” Danny threatened.

 

“Relax, Danno,” Steve said. “It’s just a bar fight. It’s not like these guys are going to seriously hurt me.”

 

“One of the men takes out a knife and lunges at you,” Jerry said. He rolled the dice. “Critical hit. The knife slides between the plates of the armor and slices your arm to the bone, severing the tendons. It hangs, useless.”

 

“You were saying,” Danny said.

 

“Shut up and heal me,” Steve grumbled.

 

“Only if you let me say I told you so,” Danny said.

 

“Fine, okay, you can say it,” Steve said, ungraciously.

 

“I told you so.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“After a long, arduous journey, fighting your way through monsters sent to stop you and brigands set on robbing you, you come to a dark, foreboding castle. A crumbling stone tower rises in the back. The castle is surrounded by a moat of dark, still water. You can just make out shapes shifting beneath the surface. The bridge is raised. There is no way across.” Jerry said.

 

“This is it,” Adam said. “This is where the sorcerer lives. I’m sure of it.”

 

“I dive into the moat and swim across,” Steve said.

 

“Steven, what are you thinking?” Danny yelled. “You’re wearing plate armor! You’ll sink!”

 

“Oh, right.” Steve pondered his predicament for a moment. “I strip off my armor and weapons and dive in.”

 

“A serpentine neck rises from the water next to you. It darts toward you and catches you in strong jaws, crushing you,” Jerry said.

 

“I fight back,” Steve said.

 

“You’re swimming in a moat with no armor and no weapons. You kick uselessly in the air,” Jerry said. “Unphased, the creature tips its head back and swallows you whole. You’re now dead.”

 

“That’s okay,” Steve said, unconcerned. “Danny’ll resurrect me.”

 

“Dammit, Steve, I’ve already healed mortal injuries five times this game, including reattaching your arm before we even got out of the tavern,” Danny said. “I’m not saving your ass again.”

 

“He can’t, anyway,” Jerry said. “There’s no body.”

 

“Oh,” Steve said, suitably chastised. “Sorry, guys. I guess you’re down one barbarian.”

 

“I can’t believe you!” Danny ranted. “Even in a game, you can’t help going all Rambo without waiting for backup or even for someone, like me, for example, because God knows other than Adam I’m the only sane one here, to come up with an actual plan that doesn’t include you running headlong into danger.”

 

“I’m a barbarian! That’s what they do!” Steve protested.

 

“Junior’s a barbarian, too,” Danny countered. “You don’t see him rushing into things.”

 

“What do you mean? He’s usually right behind me,” Steve said.

 

“It’s true,” Tani agreed.

 

Danny crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, grumbling. “I’m never playing Dungeons and Dragons with you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot of fun to write, but then, Steve being Steve and Danny ranting at him always is.
> 
> Also, this really would make a great campaign.


	31. Nessie Come Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerry gets his chance to see the Loch Ness Monster in person. Too bad the monster isn't cooperating.
> 
> Song: Nessie Come Up  
> Artist: Dr. Jane  
> Fandom: Hawaii Five-0  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was easy. Who else but Five-0's resident conspiracy theorist would want to see Nessie?

 

Steve burst into Jerry’s office without warning and slapped something down on the desk without saying a word. Jerry looked at it. It was a plain, ordinary, piece of printer paper. It had what looked like it might be an order for something and a bar code for pickup. At least, that was the best Jerry’s mind came up with. He really wasn’t sure what it was or why Steve was bringing it to him. “What’s this?”

 

“Plane tickets,” Steve said, terse as usual.

 

Jerry looked more closely. Yeah, that’s what they were. “Am I booking travel for you and Danny now? You know, you really need a secretary to do that sort of thing.”

 

“No,” Steve said. “Those are for you.”

 

Jerry really wished Steve were more forthcoming. If Danny had brought them, Jerry would have the full story plus Danny’s opinion on the travel agent he dealt with, their destination, and the food on the airplane. “Why did you get me tickets to. . .” he looked at the destination “. . .London? I don’t know anybody there.”

 

“It’s a job,” Steve said. “Harry’s got someone who’s claiming to have an authentic manuscript pointing to the location of the Templar’s treasure. He wants someone to take a look at it. You seemed like a good choice.”

 

“But why me? I’m not an expert on manuscripts.”

 

“No, but you’re an expert on this type of thing,” Steve said. “And you know enough to spot an obvious fake. Besides, Harry’s a tightwad, and you’re cheaper than an expert.”

 

Jerry’s face lit up. “This is so cool!” He stood up and perused the shelves and filing cabinets taking up most of the space in the minuscule office. “I’m sure I have something here.” A thought occurred to him. “We should really go to Rosslyn Chapel while we’re there. The Templars supposedly hid clues to their treasure there, but nobody’s been able to prove it. Except that guy in The DaVinci code, but that’s just fiction. Too bad, though. It would be really cool if someone really could decipher them.”

 

Steve interrupted Jerry before he could really get going. “Jerry, we’re not going after the treasure. You’re just going to go, look at the manuscript, and come home. That’s it.”

 

Jerry’s face fell. “But there’s so much history and lore in the UK. I have to see some of it. Who knows when I’ll get another chance. Can we at least go to Stonehenge? Or, oooh, Loch Ness! I’d love to see the Loch Ness monster. Some people say it’s a dinosaur that didn’t go extinct. Personally, I think it’s an alien lifeform taking refuge on Earth.”

 

“No, Jerry,” Steve said, firmly.

 

Jerry turned puppy-dog eyes on Steve. They weren’t as effective as Grace’s or Charlies, but they were pretty good.

 

Steve sighed. “One place, Jerry. Pick one place, and we’ll go to it.”

 

Jerry thought a minute. “Loch Ness. I’ve always wanted to see the monster.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“I don’t see the monster,” Jerry said, pouting, as he looked out at the murky water from the boat. The water was barely visible in the dense fog, but Jerry was sure if he just looked hard enough, he could spot the monster even in the gloom.

 

“That’s because it doesn’t exist,” Danny said from his spot next to Jerry. “I don’t know why you want to waste your money looking for a figment of somebody’s overactive imagination.”

 

“It does exist,” Jerry insisted. “There’s proof.”

 

“Blurry photographs of something that might or might no be a creature but could just as easily be a floating log don’t constitute proof,” Danny said.

 

“He’s real, I know it,” Jerry said, stubbornly.

 

“Real or not,” Steve cut in. “We’re in Scotland, Danno. Enjoy the scenery.”

 

Danny scowled. “How am I supposed to enjoy the scenery when it’s so foggy I can’t even see my hand in front of my face?”

 

“Danny’s right,” Steve conceded. “You’re probably not going to see the monster even if it’s out there. “

 

“I’m not going to give up,” Jerry said.

 

“Have it your way,” Steve said. He and Danny went into the sheltered area of the boat, no doubt headed for the concession stand and the coffee it offered. Jerry resolutely stayed where he was, never looking away from the gloomy lake.

 

His efforts were fruitless. There was no sign of the monster. They arrived back on shore and made their way to their rooms. They were leaving the next day, so Steve and Danny went to go pack. Jerry knew he should do the same, but he couldn’t help gazing longingly out the window in his room until it grew too dark to make out anything on the water, or even just outside his window.

 

Jerry sighed. “It’s just no use. I’m not going to see Nessie,” he told himself. Reluctantly, he tore himself away from the window and went to go pack.

 

Outside in the water, through the dark and fog, a neck rose up. A head looked around. Satisfied there was nothing there to see it, a dark shape floated in the water.

 

Nessie did exist.

 

And Jerry missed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's almost a month late, but I did it. It's been quite a ride--love, laughter, and tears galore. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! Until next time!


End file.
